a 


.„« 


-OLIVErPERCIViVI,- 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  SON  OF 
A  TORY 

A  narrative  of  the  Experiences  of  Wilton 

Aubrey  in  the   Mohawk    Valley   and 

elsewhere  during  the  Summer  of 

1777,  now  for  the  first  time 

edited  by 

CLINTON    SCOLLARD 

Author  of  "A  Man-at-Armt"  etc. 


BOSTON 

Richard  G.  Badger  &  Company 

(Incorporated) 

1901 


Copyright  1901  by 

Richard  G.  Badger  &  Company 

(Incorporated) 


All  Rights  Reserved 


PRINTED    BY    LAKEVIEW    PRESS 

SOUTH  FKAMINGHAM,  MASS.,  FOR 

RICHARD  G  BADGER  &  COMPANY  (INC  ) 

BOSTON 


To  HENRY  PELOUZE  DE  FOREST,  M.  D. 
My  dear  Harry: 

Although  it  was  not  your  lot,  like 
mine,  to  be  born  within  far  crow-call  of 
the  Mohawk  Valley,  where  most  of  the 
scenes  described  in  these  pages  were  en 
acted,  yet  inasmuch  as  you  have  gazed 
lingeringly  with  me  upon  the  rich  sweep 
of  the  river  vale  I  venture  here  to  set 
your  name ;  but  chiefly  am  I  moved  to 
do  so  because  of  the  good-fellowship  and 
affection  that  have  long  been  between  us. 

C.  S. 


JL  <r 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

I.  News  from  the  North           ...  11 

II.  What  Happened  on  Muster  Night       .  28 

III.  The  Tryst 49 

IV.  In  the  Wilderness        ....  68 
V.  At  Oswego 88 

VI.  The  Coming  of  St.  Leger     .        .        .  104 

VII.  With  the  Advance       .        ...  118 

VIII.  The  Fort  is  Encompassed   .        .        .  135 

IX.  The  Baronet  Shows  his  Hand      .        .  150 

X.  An  Unexpected  Encounter          .        .  165 

XI.  The  Sortie 179 

XII.  The  Tarry  within  the  Fort           .        .  195 

XIII.  A  Perilous  Venture    .        .        .        .  S10 

XIV.  At  Shoemaker's           .        ...  226 
XV.  My  Home-Coming        ....  238 

XVI.  The  Sending  of  Son  Yost  Schuyler     .  249 

XVII.  How  the  Euse  de  Guerre  Succeeded    .  2Q4 

XV HI.  The  Quest  for  Margaret       .        .        .  281 

XIX.  The  Gardineer  Place           .        .  297 


FOREWORD 

( Wilton  Aubrey  to  the  Reader.} 

She  whom  I  hold  dearest  in  the  whole 
fair  round  of  earth  avers  that  whatever 
imagination  I  possess  takes  wing  when  I 
seat  myself  and  put  pen  to  paper.  It  seems 
to  me  that  this  is  rather  a  severe  arraign 
ment  of  my  powers  of  expression,  although 
I  will  confess  that  I  have  never  been  enam 
ored  of  things  fanciful.  My  early  law 
studies,  declares  the  little  lady  in  question, 
must  have  stunted,  if  not  altogether  de 
stroyed,  the  tender  shoot  which  otherwise 
would  have  sent  forth  leaf  and  flower. 
She  is  not  satisfied,  you  see,  without  some 
plausible  explanation  for  the  fact  that  she 
so  earnestly  insists  upon.  She  delights  to 
imagine  that  I  might  have  been  a  poet  like 
Mr.  Freneau,  or  a  romancer  like  Brockden 
Brown,  had  it  not  been  for  "so  and  so." 
Ah,  doting  and  transparent  one,  ever  ready 
to  excuse  and  overlook  the  shortcomings 

vii 


FOREWORD 

of  him  whose  greatest  virtue  is  his  love  of 
thee! 

After  this  preamble,  and  my  frank  con 
fession  of  the  opinion  of  the  person  who 
should  know  me  best,  you,  gracious  reader, 
will  expect  nothing  more  than  a  plain  tale, 
a  straightforward  narration,  of  certain  hap 
penings  that  chanced  to  fall  under  my 
cognizance  at  a  time  when  our  beloved 
land  was  but  a  nursling  in  the  family  of 
nations, — she  who  is  now  fast  growing  to 
such  full  stature. 

There  are  several  reasons  I  might  urge 
for  relating  the  story  of  my  adventures. 
One,  however,  will  suffice.  The  peculiar 
position  in  which  I  was  placed  gave  me 
exceptional  opportunity  for  observing  men 
and  events,  men  whose  names  are  not 
likely  soon  to  be  forgotten,  events  which 
long  since  became  a  part  of  history.  For 
a  season  an  onlooker,  I  was  finally  a  par 
ticipant  in  a  campaign  the  importance  of 
which  has  never  been  fully  realized.  That 
I  should  shed  upon  it  any  new  light  is  ex 
ceedingly  improbable;  the  most  that  I  can 

viii 


FOREWORD 

hope  to  do  is,  through  the  fact  of  personal 
contact,  to  give  to  it  a  slight  added  touch 
of  reality. 


12  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Then  lowering  his  voice  to  a  whisper, 
and  thrusting  his  head  forward  in  so  un 
natural  a  fashion  that  a  momentary  thrill 
of  apprehension  shot  through  me  lest  the 
tidings  he  spoke  of  had  unbalanced  him, 
he  continued, 

"There's  to  be  an  invasion  from  the 
north.  The  time's  come,  my  boy.  We 
must  remain  inactive  no  longer.  We  must 
be  off  and  join  our  friends." 

I  had  often  pictured  to  myself  how  I 
should  meet  this  decision,  so  long  expected 
and  so  dreaded.  I  had  rehearsed  again 
and  again  what  remonstrances  I  should 
offer.  I  had  imagined  with  what  elo 
quence  I  should  stand  out  against  it.  But 
now  that  the  words  were  in  my  ears  I 
could  only  say,  and  that  lamely  enough, 

"  Think  of  your  health,  sir ! " 

However  strongly  other  feelings  entered 
into  the  matter,  everything  was  subordi 
nate  to  that  consideration.  I  did  not  even 
have  the  least  curiosity  in  regard  to  the 
source  of  the  remarkable  information  he 
had  communicated. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  13 

"  The  news  has  given  me  new  life,"  was 
my  father's  answer  to  my  expostulation, 
and  for  the  time  he  certainly  did  look  ten 
years  younger  than  was  his  wont. 

Shaking  with  excitement,  his  voice  still 
suppressed  as  though  he  feared  to  take 
even  the  walls  of  the  room  into  his  confi 
dence,  he  now  revealed  to  me  how  he  had 
come  into  possession  of  the  stirring  tidings. 

It  appeared  that  while  walking  in  his 
favorite  path  at  the  top  of  the  apple  or 
chard  early  that  afternoon  he  had  been 
attracted  by  a  slight  rustling  in  the  elder 
bushes  surrounding  a  stump  at  a  point 
where  the  path  bent  away  across  the  great 
meadow  toward  the  Flatts.  On  approach 
ing  the  bushes  he  discovered  an  Indian 
hidden  among  them.  The  concealed  red 
skin  signed  that  he  had  something  to  com 
municate,  so  my  father  went  among  the 
shrubbery,  seated  himself  upon  the  stump, 
and  listened  to  the  Indian's  story.  The 
man  proved  to  be  a  runner  in  the  employ 
of  Sir  John  Johnson,  and  was  bearing 
news  to  certain  trusted  persons  of  Tory 


14  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

persuasion  farther  down  the  valley  of  the 
coming  of  the  baronet  and  others  from 
Quebec  and  Montreal.  He  had  been  or 
dered  to  stop  upon  his  way  and  urge  my 
father  to  join  the  invading  force  at  Buck 
Island,  near  the  entrance  to  the  St.  Law 
rence,  where  a  rendezvous  had  been  planned 
for  early  July.  The  runner  stated  that  it 
had  been  the  intention  of  the  leaders  to 
get  the  expedition  under  way  from  Lachine 
on  the  21st  of  June.  It  was  now  the 
30th. 

"Imagine  my  delight,  Wilton,"  cried 
my  father,  regaining  his  natural  manner  as 
he  closed  the  Indian's  narrative,  "to  dis 
cover,  when  I  inquired  if  the  baronet  were 
at  the  head  of  the  invasion,  that  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  is  Barry  St.  Leger!" 

This  intelligence  was  a  keen  blow  to 
me,  for  I  now  saw  that  all  attempts  to  dis 
suade  my  father  from  setting  out  to  join 
the  invaders  were  likely  to  be  useless.  I 
had  thought,  while  he  was  relating  the 
runner's  story,  that  perhaps  after  the  heat 
of  enthusiasm  had  died  away  he  would 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  15 

listen  to  my  arguments  in  favor  of  remain 
ing  quietly  at  home,  and  possibly  finally 
be  persuaded  that  this  was  the  course  of 
wisdom.  The  introduction  of  St.  Leger's 
name  put  a  different  face  upon  the  whole 
matter.  My  father  and  St.  Leger  had 
been  close  friends  at  Cambridge,  and  mess 
mates  later,  before  the  health  of  the  former 
had  compelled  him  to  give  up  the  army. 
The  two  had  not  seen  one  another  for 
twenty  years,  yet  my  father  preserved  the 
liveliest  affection  for  his  college  companion, 
and  he,  if  his  occasional  letters  were  to  be 
believed,  still  held  in  kindly  recollection 
their  youthful  comradeship. 

Rumors  of  Burgoyne's  advance  had 
reached  us,  but  the  runner's  message  was 
our  first  intimation  of  the  intended  descent 
of  a  second  armament.  Being  for  a  mo 
ment  too  downhearted  to  act  the  part  I 
had  previously  determined  upon  in  case 
affairs  took  an  ill  turn,  I  sat  speechless  and 
vacant-eyed.  My  father  attributed  my 
silence  and  dejection  to  my  disapproval  of 
his  project  on  the  ground  of  his  health, 


16  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

and  began  striding  about  the  room  as 
though  to  convince  me  of  his  vigor,  saying 
as  he  did  so : 

"  You  have  urged  me  of  late,  Wilton,  to 
take  a  journey,  declaring  that  a  change 
would  be  of  benefit  to  me.  What  more 
admirable  opportunity  than  this  ?  Bethink 
you,  moreover,  of  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
the  dearest  friend  of  my  youth,  and  of 
marching  triumphantly  down  our  valley, 
after  giving  these  rascally  rebels  the 
trouncing  they  so  richly  deserve ! " 

"  In  the  meanwhile  —  "I  began. 

"In  the  meanwhile,"  said  my  father, 
catching  my  thought,  and  taking  the  words 
from  my  mouth,  "  David  and  Christina  can 
watch  over  our  interests  here.  We  can 
give  out  that  family  matters  call  us  to 
New  York,  slip  away  under  the  cover  of 
night,  and  our  inquisitive  neighbors  who 
term  themselves  l patriots'  will  never  be 
the  wiser  until  St.  Leger's  victorious  forces 
come  down  upon  them  —  though  by  that 
time  their  courage  will  no  doubt  have 
oozed  out  and  they  be  swearing  fealty  to 
King  George." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  17 

I  saw  how  futile  it  was  to  make  the 
slightest  demur,  so  answered  with  the  best 
grace  I  could  feign  : 

"It  shall  be  as  you  wish,  sir.  When 
shall  we  start f" 

"We  should  hardly  be  in  time  for  the 
Buck  Island  rendezvous,"  replied  my  father, 
"so  we  need  not  hasten.  We  can  easily 
make  Oswego  in  five  days." 

He  moved  toward  the  door  of  the  small 
room  he  had  occupied  since  my  mother's 
death.  Hia  manner  indicated  that  he  still 
had  something  to  tell  me,  and  I  wondered 
what  should  cause  him  to  hesitate.  At  the 
door  he  turned,  and,  casting  a  deprecating 
look  at  me,  said : 

"  You  may  as  well  know  before  we  leave 
that  there  are  to  be  Indians." 

"Indians!"  I  echoed,  but  he  was  gone 
before  I  could  speak  further.  He  was 
fully  aware  of  my  opinion  of  the  policy 
employed  by  the  crown  of  enlisting  the 
redskins  in  the  conflict,  for  on  this  point 
I  had  been  outspoken,  however  carefully 
I  had  veiled  many  of  my  other  sentiments, 


18  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

and  it  was  his  desire  to  escape  an  outbreak 
on  my  part  that  led  him  to  withdraw  so 
hurriedly. 

The  atmosphere  of  the  room  seemed 
suddenly  to  oppress  me,  so  I  seized  my 
hat  and  strode  out  into  the  air.  In  the 
rear  of  the  house  the  ground  rose  to  a 
gentle  eminence  where  three  majestic  pine 
trees  had  been  left  standing  when  the 
place  was  cleared.  Here  I  had  constructed 
a  rough  but  comfortable  seat,  and  thither 
I  now  repaired.  There  was  yet  some  time 
to  elapse  ere  the  supper  hour,  and  I  was 
glad  of  the  opportunity  for  thought  thus 
afforded  me. 

The  sun  was  fully  two  hours  high  above 
the  western  hills,  and  as  I  sat  beneath  the 
stately  trees  the  wide  sweep  of  the  valley 
lay  before  me  like  a  great  garden.  A 
strip  of  woodland  hid  the  houses  of  the 
Flatts,  but  a  thin  spiral  of  smoke  indicated 
their  location.  It  was  upon  this  scene  of 
pastoral  peace  that  the  forces  of  St.  Leger 
and  Sir  John  Johnson,  with  their  attendant 
horde  of  savages,  were  about  to  descend. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  19 

Though  I  had  never  been  myself  an  eye 
witness  of  an  Indian  raid,  there  were 
plenty  in  the  vicinity  who  knew  but  too 
well  what  it  meant,  and  as  I  now  recalled 
what  I  had  heard  from  their  lips  I  grew 
sick  at  heart.  Such  fighting  did  not  mean 
war ;  it  was  sheer  butchery.  Could  I  con 
sent  to  link  my  fortunes  with  men  who 
seemed  in  my  eyes  little  better  than  mur 
derers  ?  The  suggestion  was  scarcely  en 
durable.  My  father  looked  upon  the 
employment  of  the  Indians  much  in  the 
same  light  as  I  did,  but  his  loyalty  to  the 
king  kept  him  silent.  Should  I  take  a 
decided  stand,  speak  out  my  whole  mind, 
and  refuse  to  go,  what  then  ?  A  result 
still  more  harrowing  than  participation  in 
the  prospective  invasion  confronted  me  — 
my  father's  grief,  and  rage,  and  the  sure 
effect  on  him  consequent  upon  these  emo 
tions.  At  this  juncture  I  bethought  me  of 
my  promise  to  my  mother,  and  hencefor 
ward  there  was  no  faltering.  I  looked 
Duty  unswervingly  in  the  eyes,  and  called 
him  brother,  though  truly  he  was  a  grim 
companion  to  take  to  one's  bosom. 


20  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

It  may  appear  strange  that  my  senti 
ments  and  those  of  my  father  differed  so 
radically.  This  perhaps  may  be  best  ac 
counted  for  by  the  fact  that  I  had  been 
separated  from  him  during  some  of  the 
most  susceptible  years  of  my  youth,  and 
had  come  under  the  influence  of  strong 
characters,  men  whose  views  were  directly 
opposed  to  those  which  he  held.  The  for 
tunes  of  my  family  had  been  somewhat 
checkered.  My  father  was  a  younger  son 
who  had  inherited  considerable  property 
from  a  maiden  aunt,  and  had  thus  been 
able  to  follow  his  own  wishes  and  marry 
young,  indeed,  almost  immediately  on  leav 
ing  the  university.  When  ill  health  had 
forced  him  to  give  up  his  military  career 
he  had  followed  two  of  my  mother's 
brothers  to  the  colonies.  Finding  renewed 
vigor  in  the  change  of  climate,  he  embarked 
in  business  in  New  York  and  devoted  him 
self  with  varying  success  to  mercantile  pur 
suits  until  the  spring  of  1772,  when  there 
came  a  sudden  crash  in  the  financial  world. 
My  father  saved  little  from  the  general 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  21 

wreck  save  what  he  had  been  accustomed 
jestingly  to  refer  to  as  his  "  plantation 
in  the  wilderness,"  a  partially  cleared 
tract  of  land  to  which  he  had  taken  a 
fancy  while  delayed  for  a  day  on  a  journey 
through  the  interior  to  Montreal,  and  which 
he  had  acquired  for  a  nominal  sum.  To 
this,  our  present  home,  he  had  moved  the 
summer  following  his  business  misfortunes. 
At  the  time  of  my  father's  reverses  I 
was  about  completing  my  first  year  at 
King's  College,  and  one  of  my  uncles,  fan 
cying  he  saw  in  me  the  making  of  a  law 
yer,  generously  offered  to  be  responsible 
for  the  completion  of  my  education.  Con 
sequently  I  had  remained  behind  when  my 
parents  turned  their  backs  on  civilization. 
During  the  three  years  and  a  half  that 
elapsed  before  circumstances  forced  me  to 
take  permanent  leave  of  New  York  I  saw 
my  father  but  once.  This  was  the  forma 
tive  period  of  my  life.  My  uncle  was  a 
man  of  but  few  words,  yet  he  thought  and 
felt  deeply.  His  sympathies  were  strongly 
with  the  colonies  when  serious  difficulties 


22  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

began  to  arise  with  the  mother  country, 
and  though  he  never  strove  to  influence 
me  he  did  so  unconsciously. 

It  was,  however,  my  intimacy  with 
Alexander  Hamilton  that  had  the  greatest 
effect  in  molding  my  opinions.  Hamilton 
was  one  of  my  fellow-students  at  King's 
College,  and  we  were  drawn  toward  one 
another  at  our  first  meeting.  Although 
he  was  several  years  my  junior  he  was 
vastly  my  superior  mentally,  and  the  way 
he  grasped  a  subject  was  to  me  a  matter 
of  never-ceasing  wonder  and  admiration. 
He,  on  the  other  hand,  though  full  of  ner 
vous  energy  was  lacking  in  physical 
strength,  and  often  spoke  with  smiling 
envy  of  my  prowess  in  all  tests  where 
muscular  power  and  endurance  were  called 
into  play.  Especially  was  he  enthusiastic 
over  my  «kill  at  sword-play,  an  exercise  in 
which  I  had  practised  from  early  boyhood 
with  my  father,  who  had  once  been  the 
champion  fencer  of  his  regiment.  When 
Hamilton  became  interested  in  the  cause 
of  the  colonies  he  drew  me  headlong  after 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  23 

him.  Boy  though  he  was  at  the  time,  and 
even  more  youthful  in  appearance  than  in 
actuality,  his  arguments  seemed  to  me 
incontrovertible,  as  indeed  they  did  a  little 
later  when  I  began  to  think  for  myself. 
I  was  by  his  side  in  the  tea  affair  when 
Captain  Chambers'  chests  were  tumbled 
into  the  waters  of  the  harbor,  and  I  was 
with  him,  and  other  students  as  well,  the 
night  the  cannon  were  removed  from  the 
Battery  in  face  of  the  shotted  guns  of  the 
war-ship  Asia. 

But  my  residence  with  my  uncle  and 
my  intercourse  with  Hamilton  were  sud 
denly  cut  short  by  news  of  my  mother's 
serious  illness.  This  was  in  the  autumn  of 
1775,  soon  after  I  had  begun  my  law 
studies.  I  traveled  with  all  haste  into  the 
country,  to  find  that  she  had  rallied,  but 
was  never  likely  to  be  in  firm  health  again, 
if  indeed  she  survived  the  winter.  This 
fact  made  my  return  to  New  York  impossi 
ble,  so  I  settled  down  in  our  new  home  to 
aid  in  caring  for  my  mother,  and  to  be  of 
what  service  I  could  in  looking  after  affairs 


24T          THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

about  the  place.  The  open  warfare  which 
was  now  in  progress  between  the  United 
Colonies  and  Great  Britain  kept  my  father 
in  a  state  of  feverish  excitement,  and  had 
it  not  been  for  my  mother's  precarious 
condition  I  am  sure  nothing  would  have 
prevented  him  from  offering  his  services 
to  the  crown.  As  it  was,  living  in  a  neigh 
borhood  where  the  Whig  sentiment  was 
pronounced,  his  unrestrained  speech  made 
him  an  object  of  dislike,  if  not  of  hatred. 
The  part  I  was  forced  to  act  was  ex 
ceedingly  distasteful.  I  made  known  my 
feelings  to  my  mother,  who,  I  found,  sym 
pathized  with  me,  and  counseled  me  most 
wisely  in  regard  to  my  attitude  toward 
my  father,  whose  intense  loyalty  to  the 
king  she  understood,  and  persuaded  me  was 
but  natural.  Though  I  did  not  change  at 
heart,  as  time  passed  it  grew  more  easy 
for  me  to  dissimulate,  and  my  father  never 
had  cause  to  suspect  my  real  sentiments. 
It  was  entirely  owing  to  my  mother's  advice 
and  entreaties,  however,  that  he  and  I 
came  to  no  bitter  words  during  the  months 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  25 

directly  following  my  arrival.  At  the 
Flatts,  where  I  made  few  acquaintances,  I 
passed  among  Whigs  for  a  Whig-hater  and 
among  Tories  as  one  of  their  own  number, 
not  through  any  expression  on  my  part  but 
because  it  was  so  well  known  where  my 
father  stood.  There  were  but  two  persons 
besides  my  mother  who  were  aware  of  my 
actual  position. 

My  mother  endured  the  winter  far  better 
than  we  had  feared  and  we  grew  quite 
hopeful  during  the  spring  and  summer,  but 
with  the  dull  and  dark  autumn  days  came 
a  sudden  change  for  the  worse  and  she 
sank  rapidly.  During  the  last  weeks  of 
her  life  I  was  almost  constantly  at  her 
side,  and  it  was  then  I  promised  her  that 
whatever  course  my  father  might  pursue 
in  regard  to  the  struggle  after  she  was 
gone  I  would  not  desert  him.  Under  no 
other  circumstances  could  I,  or  would  I, 
have  given  such  a  promise ;  yet,  situated  as 
I  was,  who  will  say  that  I  should  have 
acted  otherwise  ?  The  entreaty  in  a  dying 
mother's  eyes  is  something  no  son,  possess- 


26  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

ing  a  spark  of  tenderness  or  love  in  his 
soul,  can  resist. 

It  was  mid-November  when  we  buried  my 
mother.  The  frost  had  made  the  bare 
ground  as  rigid  as  iron,  there  was  not  a 
breath  of  wind,  and  all  day  long  a  flock  of 
crows  raised  a  raucous  clamor  in  the  pines 
behind  the  house.  My  father  was  com 
pletely  broken  with  grief.  Throughout 
my  mother's  illness  he  had  refused  to  allow 
himself  to  consider  what  the  end  must  be, 
and  the  final  blow  seemed  to  prostrate  him 
quite  as  much  as  though  it  had  been  unex 
pected.  The  day  following  the  burial  he 
was  seized  with  a  severe  chill ;  then  a  rack 
ing  cough,  a  trouble  from  which  he  had 
for  years  been  free,  took  hold  upon  him 
and  would  not  be  shaken  off.  It  was  well- 
nigh  impossible  to  rouse  him  from  the 
gloom  into  which  he  had  fallen,  and  it 
seemed  as  though  fate  was  likely  to  press 
the  cup  of  sorrow  to  my  lips  a  second 
time.  This,  however,  I  was  spared,  but 
the  effect  of  the  awful  depression  and 
desolation  of  that  winter  was  long  in  lift/- 
ing  from  my  spirits. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  27 

"When  my  father  again  began  to  show  an 
interest  in  the  progress  of  the  war  it  was 
like  a  faint  rift  in  the  brooding  clouds. 
In  April  he  went  several  times  to  the 
Flatts,  and  received  a  few  of  his  acquaint 
ances  among  the  Tories.  Then  he  ex 
pressed  an  eagerness  to  regain  his  strength, 
and  very  soon  it  dawned  upon  me  what 
was  in  his  mind  —  flight  to  Canada  and 
enlistment  in  the  king's  cause.  The  cough 
still  clung  to  him,  and  in  May  an  injudi 
cious  overexertion  brought  on  a  slight 
hemorrhage,  but  from  this  he  quickly  re 
covered.  His  intention  became  daily  more 
clear,  though  when  he  hinted  at  it  I  made 
no  effort  to  conceal  my  disapproval,  never 
giving  him  occasion  to  think,  however,  that 
my  sympathies  in  the  struggle  were  op 
posed  to  his.  But  there  had  been  no 
occurrence  to  precipitate  action  on  his  part 
until  the  information  of  the  runner  fur 
nished  the  lacking  pretext. 


CHAPTER  II 

What  Happened  on  Muster  Night 

"  ^W"  IT  TTILTON,"   said   my   father,  as 

\^/     we    rose    ^rom    ^e    suPPer 
V    T        table,    "Van    Eyck    has     a 

small  bateau  which  would  be  just  the  thing 
for  our  journey.  Would  it  not  be  well  to 
secure  it  without  delay?" 

"I  think  it  would,"  I  replied,  "  if  go  we 
must.' ' 

To  the  last  words  of  my  answer  my 
father  paid  no  heed,  for  he  continued, 

"  You  could  find  Van  Eyck  this  evening, 
could  you  not?" 

"Very  probably." 

"  Suppose  you  try  to.  Once  we  are  sure 
of  our  boat  we  can  make  the  other  neces 
sary  arrangements  at  our  leisure." 

After  a  brief  discussion  in  regard  to  what 
price  we  ought  to  pay  for  the  bateau,  since 
it  seemed  best  to  buy  it  outright,  I  took  up 
a  stout  walking-stick  and  set  out  for  the 

28 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  29 

cabin  of  the  eccentric  Dutch  Tory,  which 
stood  not  far  from  the  river-bank,  near  the 
rift  which  bore  his  name. 

I  must  confess  that  I  started  upon  my 
errand  with  considerable  misgiving.  It 
was  muster  night  at  the  Flatts,  and  in 
order  to  reach  my  destination  I  was  obliged 
to  pass  the  parade-ground,  and  also  Bel 
linger's  store,  which  was  a  general  meet 
ing-place  after  the  drill  was  finished.  An 
encounter  with  the  patriot  militia-men  was 
little  to  my  liking,  for  I  knew  many  of 
them  bore  me  no  good  will  on  account  of 
the  views  which  they  assumed  I  held.  It 
was  not  that  I  was  timid-hearted  and  feared 
personal  violence,  or  cared  a  jot  for  any  of 
the  jibes  they  might  fling  at  me,  but  I 
detested  a  brawl,  and  I  was  sure  there  were 
those  who  would  ask  nothing  better  than 
to  involve  me  in  one.  Comforting  myself 
with  the  thought  that  it  was  useless  to  bor 
row  trouble,  and  trusting  in  fortune  to  see 
me  through  without  any  unpleasantness, 
I  struck  into  a  brisk  pace,  and  was  soon 
beyond  the  wood  which  hid  the  Flatts  from 
view. 


30  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Circumstances  favored  me,  for  when  I 
drew  near  the  fort  and  the  parade-ground 
I  found  the  drill  was  in  full  swing.  Quite 
a  crowd  had  assembled  to  witness  the 
maneuvers,  which  were  in  charge  of  one 
of  the  officers  from  the  regular  troops 
stationed  at  the  fort,  and  I  slipped  by 
unnoticed.  My  spirits  now  rose,  for  I  re 
flected  that  I  would  wait  until  after  dusk 
had  fallen  before  returning,  and  thus  lessen 
the  chance  of  a  disagreeable  encounter. 

I  did  not  find  Van  Eyck  at  his  cabin,  and 
sat  long  in  the  gathering  twilight  waiting 
for  him.  As  time  elapsed  I  grew  nervous, 
for  I  was  anxious  to  take  advantage  of  the 
darkness  before  the  moon  rose;  but  the 
moments  sped,  and  still  there  was  no  sign 
of  him,  and  before  he  finally  appeared  the 
moon  was  silvering  the  hilltops  and  the 
valley.  It  did  not  take  us  long  to  come  to 
an  agreement  in  regard  to  the  bateau,  and 
I  left  the  Tory  with  the  understanding  that 
he  was  to  conceal  the  boat  among  a  clump 
of  willows  at  the  mouth  of  a  creek  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  up  the  river,  where  we 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  31 

could  load  her  secretly  and  at  our  con 
venience. 

Thus  far  I  had  every  cause  to  congratu 
late  myself,  and  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
the  moonlight  was  unusually  brilliant  I 
turned  homeward  with  a  springing  step. 
As  I  approached  the  Flatts  1  began  to  en 
counter  militia-men  with  shouldered  mus 
kets.  Many  of  them  did  not  recognize  me, 
and  those  who  did  gave  me  a  surly  greet 
ing.  When  I  drew  near  Bellinger's  store 
I  saw  several  groups  by  the  roadside,  but 
managed  to  get  by  them  without  exciting 
comment.  If  I  could  but  pass  Bellinger's 
without  having  my  progress  arrested  I 
knew  I  had  nothing  further  to  fear. 

I  might  have  taken  to  the  fields  where 
a  fork  leading  up  the  valley  joined  the 
main  road,  but  there  was  a  nasty  bit  of 
marsh  to  cross  if  I  did  this,  and  further 
more,  while  I  desired  to  avoid  being  noticed, 
I  would  not  play  the  part  of  a  sneak  and  a 
coward. 

Seated  upon  the  steps  of  the  store  were 
perhaps  a  dozen  men,  laughing  and  badger- 


32  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

ing  one  another,  while  half  as  many  in  a 
knot  opposite  were  engaged  in  more  serious 
conversation.  The  road  was  wide,  and  just 
before  reaching  the  two  groups  I  left  the 
foot-path  and  struck  into  the  center  of  the 
highway.  This  was  doubtless  a  foolish 
move,  for  I  might  have  slipped  past  those 
who  were  conferring  earnestly  without 
attracting  their  attention,  and  those  op 
posite  could  hardly,  at  that  distance,  have 
detected  who  I  was.  However,  my  evident 
desire  to  escape  recognition  drew  upon  me 
the  eyes  of  the  latter.  I  realized  this,  and 
strove  to  appear  wholly  unconcerned,  re 
straining  a  natural  impulse  to  quicken  my 
stride.  I  had  nearly  run  the  gauntlet  when 
some  one  on  the  side  of  Bellinger's  cried 
out  shrilly : 

"A  Tory!     A  Tory!" 

Should  I  take  to  my  heels  ?  I  acknowl 
edge  the  thought  flashed  into  my  head,  and 
had  I  acted  without  an  instant's  hesitation 
I  doubt  not  I  could  have  got  off  without 
difficulty,  for  the  way  was  clear,  I  should 
have  had  a  fair  start,  and  it  took  a  man  of 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  33 

no  mean  speed  and  endurance  to  catch  me 
in  those  days.  But  I  put  the  thought  of 
flight  out  of  my  mind,  and  held  to  the 
same  pace  as  before,  without  noticing  the 
outcry.  Other  voices  immediately  caught 
up  the  shout,  and  then  two  men  from  the 
smaller  group  ran  toward  me,  stretching 
out  their  muskets  with  the  intention  of 
barring  my  way.  I  managed  to  elude 
them  only  to  be  confronted  by  several 
from  Bellinger's. 

"I  have  no  quarrel  with  you,  gentlemen," 
I  said  pleasantly ;  "  be  kind  enough  to  let 
me  pass." 

To  my  request  there  was  no  answer. 
One  fellow  jostled  me  and  then  another, 
yet  I  kept  my  temper,  making  my  way 
among  them,  though  not  without  consider 
able  trouble,  to  the  foot-path.  Here  I  was 
pushed  and  shoved  amid  scoffs  and  jeers, 
a  part  of  the  abuse  being  in  German,  which 
was  quite  as  common  as  English  at  the 
•Flatts.  Finally  their  insults  became  so 
offensive  that  my  store  of  patience  was 
exhausted,  and  seeing  a  favorable  oppor- 


34  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

tunity  I  suddenly  knocked  a  great  hulking 
lout  from  in  front  of  me,  and  sprang  into 
the  angle  made  by  the  jutting  wing  of  an 
old  log  cabin.  Here  I  faced  my  tormen 
tors,  gripping  my  walking-stick  menacingly. 
For  a  moment  they  were  speechless  at  my 
unexpected  action.  When  they  had  inter 
cepted  me  there  had  been  no  concerted 
plan  among  them,  and  probably  no  inten 
tion  beyond  a  thought  to  annoy  me.  Now, 
however,  when  they  recovered  from  then* 
surprise,  there  were  suggestions  in  plenty. 

"  Wig  him ! "  yelled  one. 

"  A  rail  for  him ! ' '  called  another. 

"Duck  him!  duck  him!"  clamored  a 
third,  at  which  there  was  a  storm  of  ap 
proval,  and  there  rose  a  great  outcry, — 
"  To  the  river !  to  the  river ! 

I  set  my  teeth  together  and  made  up 
my  mind  that  there  should  be  some  broken 
heads  before  they  laid  hands  upon  me, 
although  I  realized  that,  if  attacked,  I  must 
soon  be  overpowered.  Yet  my  position 
was  not  without  its  advantages,  inasmuch 
as  my  assailants  were  standing  in  the  full 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  35 

flood  of  the  moonlight,  while  I  was  in  the 
shadow.  The  shouts  continued,  and  I  could 
see  that  those  nearest  me  were  preparing 
for  a  sudden  rush,  when  a  newcomer  pushed 
his  way  to  the  front  and  demanded  in  a 
tone  of  authority: 

"What's  all  this  uproar  about?" 

"  We  've  caged  a  Tory  and  we  're  going 
to  duck  him,"  some  one  answered. 

He  turned  and  peered  into  the  obscurity 
where  I  stood,  starting  back  as  he  recog 
nized  my  face.  It  was  John  Demooth,  a 
lieutenant  in  the  militia,  my  only  intimate 
friend  at  the  Flatts,  one  who  knew  and 
respected  my  position.  If  it  were  possible 
for  any  one  to  rescue  me  from  my  present 
predicament  it  was  he. 

"You,  Aubrey!"  he  exclaimed  in  sur 
prise.  I  noted,  too,  that  there  was  an  un 
usual  touch  of  gravity  in  his  voice. 

Suddenly  he  faced  those  about  him. 

"Who  says  this  man's  a  Tory?"  he  de 
manded.  "  Which  one  of  you  has  ever 
heard  him  utter  Tory  sentiments?" 

There  was  a  murmur,  but  no  direct 
response. 


36  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"He's  his  father's  son,  isn't  he?"  called 
a  voice  at  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  and  the 
sally  was  greeted  by  a  hilarious  outburst. 

"  Let  him  cheer  for  General  Washington 
if  he  wants  to  save  his  hide  from  a  wetting," 
cried  one,  and  the  suggestion  seemed  to 
meet  with  universal  approbation. 

"Yes,  let  him  cheer,"  echoed  the  many. 

Even  had  there  not  been  my  father  to 
consider  (and  how  swiftly  would  the  news 
have  been  carried  to  his  ears  had  I  yielded 
to  their  demands !)  I  think  nothing  under 
heaven  would  have  wrung  the  cheers  from 
me  at  that  moment,  so  thoroughly  was  my 
obstinacy  aroused,  though  under  some  cir 
cumstances  it  would  have  given  me  the 
greatest  pleasure  to  shout  for  General 
Washington,  who  was  ever  in  my  eyes 
the  perfection  of  a  gentleman  and  a  soldier. 

What  would  have  now  occurred  I  cannot 
conjecture,  had  not  a  more  personal  turn 
been  given  to  the  affair  by  the  appearance 
of  Heinrich  Hcrborn  upon  the  scene. 

Between  Herborn  and  myself  there  was 
bad  blood.  At  the  house  of  the  Demooths, 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  37 

one  winter  evening  six  months  earlier,  a 
chance  introduction  had  made  me  ac 
quainted  with  Herborn's  half-sister.  I  had 
been  charmed  by  her  naive  manner,  her 
freshness  as  of  the  wild  flower,  her  modest 
beauty,  and  had  sought  every  occasion  that 
offered  to  see  more  of  her.  Every  time  I 
looked  upon  the  delicate  flush  of  her  cheeks 
I  seemed  to  see  again  the  first  spray  I  had 
ever  found  of  that  fragrant  spring  wilding, 
the  arbutus.  It  was  growing  at  the  edge 
of  a  bank  of  snow,  and  its  faint  pink 
against  the  colorless  background  appeared 
to  deepen  as  I  gazed  upon  it.  The  maiden's 
eyes  had  golden  lights  at  times,  and  her 
brown  hair  rippled  into  little  waves  like 
water  stirred  by  a  wooing  wind  out  of  the 
south. 

I  discovered  that  she  came  often  to  visit 
Miss  Demooth,  and  frequently  contrived  to 
time  my  calls  so  that  we  met  beneath  my 
friend's  hospitable  roof.  From  Margaret 
Wells,  for  such  was  the  name  of  this  frontier 
blossom,  I  gradually  learned  her  family  his 
tory.  Her  mother,  a  German  woman  of 


38  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

gentle  birth,  had  married,  against  the  wishes 
of  her  parents,  an  impecunious  nobleman 
who  had  been  driven  by  stress  of  circum 
stances  to  seek  his  fortune  in  America, 
drifting  to  the  Flatts  with  others  of  his 
countrymen.  This  was  Herborn's  father, 
the  prefix  von  having  been  detached  from 
the  name  when  its  owner  deserted  the 
fatherland.  Two  years  after  the  death  of 
her  first  husband  Margaret's  mother  had 
married  again,  her  second  choice  being  a 
roving  Englishman  named  Wells  whom 
fate  had  cast  at  her  door  sick  with  a  fever. 
Left  again  a  widow,  she  had  since  managed 
with  the  assistance  of  her  son,  at  the  time  of 
his  stepfather's  death  a  stalwart  youth  of 
nineteen,  to  carry  on  their  by  this  time 
considerable  estate. 

Young  Herborn,  now  twenty-seven,  was 
two  years  my  senior.  Dark  and  massively 
built,  he  was  at  heart  a  capital  fellow,  but 
such  a  rabid  Tory-hater  that  he  often 
allowed  his  feelings  to  get  the  better  of 
his  good  sense.  When,  at  Margaret's  in 
vitation,  I  had  called  upon  her  one  evening 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  39 

late  in  the  winter,  I  was  politely  received 
by  her  mother,  who  was  a  woman  of  most 
lovable  nature,  but  met  with  so  chilling  a 
reception  from  her  brother  that  I  mentally 
resolved  that  it  would  be  long  before  he 
had  another  occasion  to  treat  me  so  rudely. 
Encountering  him  a  few  days  later,  he  told 
me  plainly  that  I  need  not  repeat  my  visit, 
and  that  he  should  resent  any  of  my  further 
attentions  to  his  sister.  Fearing  that  an 
open  quarrel  might  put  an  end  to  all  inter 
course  between  myself  and  Margaret,  I 
pocketed  my  pride  and  made  him  an 
evasive  yet  courteous  answer. 

This  episode  instead  of  checking  the 
growing  intimacy  between  Miss  Wells  and 
myself  tended  rather  to  increase  it.  As 
she  was  a  girl  of  spirit,  she  naturally  re 
sented  what  she  deemed  her  brother's  un 
warranted  interference.  We  continued  to 
meet  at  the  Demooth's,  and  I  soon  knew 
her  well  enough  to  feel  that  I  could  confide 
to  her  the  secret  of  my  present  attitude  in 
regard  to  the  struggle  that  was  in  progress. 
Not  long  afterward  I  seized  upon  a  happy 


40  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

occasion  to  reveal  to  her  something  that 
was  much  nearer  to  my  heart,  and  the  joy, 
not  unmixed  with  surprise,  that  was  mine 
to  find  myself  suddenly  her  accepted  lover 
lifted  me  for  the  moment  to  the  very  crest 
of  happiness.  However,  the  harmony  to 
which  earth  just  then  seemed  attuned  had 
for  us  both  its  discords.  Until  there  was 
some  decisive  turn  in  the  conflict  our  love 
must  be  kept  concealed.  Her  brother  and 
my  father  had  to  be  reckoned  with. 

Two  months  passed  before  I  again  met 
Herborn  face  to  face.  One  afternoon  in 
mid-June,  as  I  was  returning  from  an  ex 
cursion  on  horseback  down  the  river  road, 
I  came  upon  him  unexpectedly  by  the  way 
side  talking  with  a  settler  whose  house 
stood  not  far  distant.  His  brow  contracted 
ominously  when  he  saw  me,  and  he  moved 
toward  me  with  so  angry  an  air  that  I  half 
expected  he  would  attempt  to  drag  me 
from  my  horse.  He  offered  me  no  violence, 
however,  but  said,  his  voice  trembling  with 
passion,  yet  so  low  that  the  other  could  not 
catch  his  words: 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  41 

"  I  hear,  you  damned  Tory  whelp,  that 
you  have  paid  no  heed  to  my  warning  of 
last  winter.  Bear  in  mind,  there'll  be  a 
day  of  reckoning,  and  that  soon  !  " 

This  threat  uttered,  he  turned  his  back 
upon  me,  and  I  rode  on  without  replying. 

Now,  as  the  crowd  made  way  for  him, 
and  he  confronted  me,  I  recalled  his  words 
of  two  weeks  previous,  and  realized  that 
however  grave  the  situation  had  been  be 
fore  his  arrival,  his  presence  had  made  it 
infinitely  more  serious.  Cheers  for  General 
Washington,  provided  I  were  willing  to 
give  them,  would  hardly  satisfy  him. 

"  Caught  like  the  contemptible  cur  you 
are  !  "  he  cried  in  a  most  insulting  way. 

Demooth  endeavored  to  intervene,  but 
Herborn  thrust  him  aside,  saying  as  he  did 
so  : 

"  What !  are  you  turned  Tory,  John 
Demooth?" 

Seeing  Herborn' s  disposal  to  deal  with 
me  single-handed,  the  crowd  drew  back 
and  we  were  left  glaring  at  each  other. 

"  Will  you  come  out  of  your  hole  and 


42  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

take  a  thrashing  like  a  man  or  stay  there 
and  take  it  like  a  cur  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  wish  to  fight 
me?" 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  mean !  " 

I  threw  down  my  walking-stick  and 
strode  toward  him.  He  carried  no  arms, 
nor  did  I,  and  I  knew  that  he  meant  a 
fight  with  bare  fists. 

"  Choose  your  own  place,"  I  said  calmly, 
"  I  am  ready." 

I  saw  my  cool  manner  of  accepting  his 
proposal  somewhat  took  aback  many  of 
my  assailants ;  Herborn  himself  could  not 
conceal  his  surprise.  But  in  reality  it 
showed  no  special  evidence  of  bravery  on 
my  part.  It  was  simply  the  easiest  way 
out  of  what  had  become  a  most  embarass- 
ing  situation.  Herborn  was  heavier  and 
stronger  than  I,  but  I  had  agih'ty  and 
greater  length  of  arm  in  my  favor.  He 
was  evidently  confident  that  he  was  about 
to  inflict  a  severe  chastisement  upon  me, 
yet  I  did  not  fear  him  in  the  least. 

The  place  which  he  selected  for  our  en- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  43 

counter  was  a  grassy  plot  in  the  street 
almost  directly  in  front  of  Bellinger's  store. 
The  night  was  so  warm  that  I  had  thrown 
on  only  a  loose  jacket  before  leaving 
home ;  this  I  now  handed  to  John  De- 
mooth,  who  had  joined  me,  and  stood  ready 
to  meet  my  opponent.  Herborn  divested 
himself  of  his  rough  working  coat  and 
bared  his  arms,  on  which  the  muscles  were 
tensely  knotted.  About  us  the  men  formed 
a  broken  ring. 

My  safety  depended  upon  my  preventing 
my  antagonist  from  closing  with  me.  If 
at  the  outset  he  got  me  into  his  clutches  I 
knew  I  should  be  at  his  mercy.  For  some 
moments  I  managed  adroitly  to  evade  his 
fierce  attack,  assuming  entirely  a  defensive 
attitude,  and  erelong  his  rising  anger  be 
gan  to  tell  in  my  favor.  Presently  he 
gave  way  to  a  black  rage ;  his  lips  twitched, 
and  his  eyes  burned  with  a  vicious  light. 
He  taunted  me  with  an  oath,  saying  that 
I  did  not  dare  strike  him,  and  with  that 
flung  himself  upon  me  so  fiercely  that  I 
was  all  but  overwhelmed.  I  realized  that 


44  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

the  time  had  come  for  a  change  of  tactics, 
and  swung  at  him  swiftly  with  an  upper 
cut  that  caught  him  under  the  chin  and 
brought  his  teeth  together  with  a  snap. 
As  he  sprang  quickly  to  one  side,  evidently 
expecting  me  to  follow  up  the  attack,  I 
saw  my  opportunity. 

Had  I  been  pitted  against  another  I 
might  have  hesitated,  but  this  man  had 
treated  me  most  shamefully,  had  needlessly 
insulted  me,  and  I  felt  not  an  atom  of  com 
punction  in  taking  any  and  every  advan 
tage  of  him. 

An  unknown  hand,  a  moment  before,  had 
struck  up  a  blaze  in  a  flashing  lantern  that 
hung  above  the  store  doorway.  I  realized 
that  if  its  rays  fell  full  upon  the  counten 
ance  the  eyes  must  be,  for  an  instant,  dazed. 
Nimbly  shifting  my  position,  before  Her- 
born  suspected  my  intention  I  had  him 
facing  the  flaring  glow.  Then  I  gathered 
all  my  strength  —  the  energy  which  I  had 
held  in  reserve  —  and  leaped  upon  him. 
Feinting,  to  add  to  his  confusion,  I  got  by 
his  guard,  and  fetched  him  such  a  swinging 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  45 

buffet  behind  the  ear  that  he  toppled  over 
an  almost  dead  weight,  his  head  striking 
upon  a  rock  half  concealed  by  the  grass. 
He  strove  to  rise,  but  sank  back  gasping, 
and  in  a  breath  half  a  dozen  or  more  of 
those  about  us  were  bending  over  him. 
As  I  stepped  aside  Demooth  seized  my 
arm,  forced  my  jacket  into  my  hands,  and 
said,  as  he  pushed  me  from  him : 
"  Now 's  your  chance !  Be  off  !  " 
I  needed  no  second  bidding.  The  words 
had  scarcely  left  his  lips  before  I  was  away, 
accordingly  I  had  a  good  start  before  my 
flight  was  observed.  There  was  an  outcry, 
but  little  pretense  of  pursuit,  so  I  halted, 
when  I  had  put  half  a  hundred  yards  be 
tween  myself  and  the  scene  of  my  victory, 
to  watch  Herborn,  who  had  got  upon  his 
feet,  stagger  toward  Bellinger's  supported 
by  two  of  his  companions. 

It  was  in  vain  that  I  strove  to  compose 
my  appearance  as  I  neared  home  so  as  not 
to  attract  my  father's  attention.  He  had 
become  uneasy  at  my  long  delay,  and  the 
moment  I  entered  the  dining-room,  where 


46  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

we  commonly  sat  in  the  evening,  he  scanned 
me  narrowly,  while  questions  and  exclama 
tions  of  astonishment  leaped  from  his  lips. 
I  took  one  of  the  candles  from  the  table 
and  examined  my  face  in  the  glass.  Then 
I  was  not  surprised  at  his  loud  expressions 
of  amazement.  There  was  a  bruise  upon 
my  forehead,  an  ugly  dark  look  beneath 
one  of  my  eyes,  an  unnatural  flush  upon 
my  countenance,  —  all  of  which  went  to 
show  that  I  had  very  lately  experienced 
some  decidedly  rough  handling. 

Much  as  I  disliked  to  do  so,  knowing 
how  my  father's  rage  was  likely  to  be 
aroused,  I  perceived  that  the  easiest  way 
out  of  the  dilemma  was  to  tell  him  the 
whole  story.  Accordingly  I  seated  myself 
and  rehearsed  the  occurrences  of  the  even 
ing.  Fortunately  he  did  not  question  me 
in  regard  to  Herborn's  reason  for  wishing 
to  fight,  else  I  might  have  found  it  difficult 
to  give  a  satisfactory  reply  and  yet  keep 
my  secret.  He  took  the  rehearsal  of  my 
adventure  much  more  calmly  than  I  had 
anticipated,  remarking  pointedly  that  I 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  47 

must  now  see  the  impossibility  of  remain 
ing  longer  in  the  neighborhood,  a  conclu 
sion  in  which  I  was  forced  to  agree  with 
him. 

We  had  just  begun  to  discuss  plans  for 
our  departure  when  we  heard  hurried  steps 
without,  the  door  at  the  side  was  thrown 
open,  and  David  sprang  into  the  room. 
He  was  well  nigh  breathless,  and  shaking 
with  apprehension. 

"  Quick ! "  he  gasped,  "  by  the  rear  of 
the  house !  Run  for  the  cabin  in  the 
woods.  They  are  coming  from  the  Flatts, 
a  score  or  more,  and  they  swear  they  will 
hunt  you  out  of  the  country.' ' 

I  saw  by  the  faithful  fellow's  manner 
that  there  was  not  an  instant  to  be  lost. 
Catching  up  a  blanket  and  my  father's  old 
army  cloak,  and  thrusting  a  pair  of  pistols 
into  my  pockets,  I  hastened  my  bewildered 
and  enraged  parent  into  the  kitchen  and 
toward  the  rear  door  of  the  shed.  David 
called  after  us,  as  we  ran  in  the  direction 
of  the  clustering  pines,  that  he  would  keep 
off  the  Whigs  until  we  had  had  ample  op 
portunity  to  reach  the  woods. 


48  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

The  door  closed  and  we  heard  the  bar 
drop  into  its  place.  While  we  paused  in 
the  shadow  of  the  trees  to  get  breath  we 
saw  plainly,  in  the  moonlight,  three  forms 
appear  suddenly  at  one  corner  of  the  house, 
and  we  knew  that  in  another  moment  the 
place  would  be  surrounded. 


CHAPTER  III 
The  Tryst 

HALF  a  mile  back  among  the  hills, 
reached  by  a  partially  overgrown 
trail,  stood  a  small  cabin  that  had 
been  used  ten  years  earlier  by  men  en 
gaged  in  getting  out  logs.  Thither  we  now 
bent  our  steps.  My  encounter  with  Herborn 
had  brought  matters  to  an  unexpected  pass, 
and  it  was  clear  that  we  must  start  Oswego- 
ward  at  the  earliest  possible  opportunity. 
In  the  meanwhile  it  seemed  best  that  we 
should  remain  in  concealment.  The  cabin  in 
the  forest  would  afford  an  admirable  hiding- 
place,  for  it  was  known  to  very  few  at  the 
Flatts,  and  we  should  feel  perfectly  safe  in 
tarrying  there  until  the  necessary  arrange 
ments  for  our  departure  could  be  made. 

The  moon  rode  high,  so  we  had  but  little 
difficulty  in  keeping  to  the  pathway.  In 
open  spaces  the  bracken  was  knee-deep, 
and  we  were  soon  drenched  with  dew,  but 
the  night  was  so  warm  that  I  had  no  fear 

49 


50  THE  SON  OP  A  TORY 

any  ill  effect  would  come  to  my  father. 
Now  that  he  had  recovered  from  his  indig 
nation  at  the  boldness  of  the  Whigs  he 
took  everything  wonderfully  well,  and 
quite  entered  into  the  spirit  of  our  flight. 

"Wait  a  few  weeks,  Wilton,"  said  he, 
as  we  paused  a  moment  after  crossing  a 
glade,  "  and  we  '11  repay  them  with  interest 
for  this  evening  call." 

After  my  experience  it  is  hardly  to  be 
wondered  that  I  caught  some  of  his  spirit, 
and  replied  to  him  that  they  richly  de 
served  whatever  was  in  store  for  them. 
However  strongly  I  might  sympathize  with 
their  side  in  the  public  quarrel,  I  could  not 
excuse  them  for  their  treatment  of  me, 
though  at  heart  I  knew  it  was  my  father's 
outspokenness  that  had  brought  the  perse 
cution  upon  me. 

Reaching  the  cabin,  we  began  clearing  it 
of  the  fir  boughs  left  by  the  last  occupants. 
This  task  accomplished,  we  fell  to  cutting 
some  fresh  branches,  and  soon  had  a  great 
fragrant  pile  spread  in  one  corner.  Then 
we  sat  down  upon  the  threshold  in  the 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  51 

moonlight  to  await  David,  for  we  knew  that 
he  would  slip  away  to  us  as  soon  as  our 
troublesome  callers  had  taken  themselves 
off.  While  David  by  no  means  sympathized 
with  my  father's  views,  he  was  devotedly 
attached  to  him.  Soon  after  my  father's 
removal  from  New  York  to  the  frontier, 
finding  David  and  his  wife  in  painfully 
straitened  circumstances  he  had  done 
them  a  great  kindness.  Since  that  time 
the  old  German  had  been  loud  in  his  ex 
pression  of  gratitude.  His  coming  to  take 
charge  of  our  estate  proved  a  blessing  in 
many  ways.  What  we  should  have  done 
without  him  in  the  present  predicament  it 
would  be  difficult  to  conjecture.  An  ac 
knowledged  Whig  himself,  his  devotion  was 
the  more  remarkable. 

It  must  have  been  fully  an  hour  before 
we  heard,  among  the  other  noises  of  the 
night,  David's  clear  whistle  come  floating 
up  the  trail.  A  few  moments  later  the 
devoted  fellow  appeared  at  the  edge  of  the 
clearing,  puffing  under  a  roll  of  blankets 
and  a  sack  of  eatables.  We  welcomed  him 


52  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

warmly,  and  bade  him,  as  soon  as  he 
caught  his  breath,  enlighten  us  in  regard 
to  his  share  in  the  events  of  the  evening. 
Presently  we  learned  his  story. 

It  appeared  that  he  had  strolled  down  to 
the  Flatts  about  dusk,  and  was  returning 
from  a  prolonged  chat  with  some  of  his 
acquaintances  when  he  was  attracted  to 
Bellinger's  by  the  outcries  in  that  vicinity. 
Arriving  soon  after  my  flight,  he  found 
Herborn,  who  had  recovered,  haranguing 
a  crowd  from  the  steps  of  the  store.  A 
few  words  sufficed  to  show  David  what  was 
likely  to  be  the  outcome  of  the  man's 
exhortations,  and  he  made  off  as  fast  as 
might  be  to  give  us  warning.  His  running 
powers,  however,  were  poor,  and  the  turbu 
lent  Whigs,  although  they  were  not  aware 
of  it,  pressed  him  closely  before  he  reached 
the  house.  Indeed,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
meadow  path,  of  the  existence  of  which 
they  were  ignorant,  they  might  have  over 
hauled  them. 

After  our  escape  they  had  thundered  at 
the  doors,  demanding  instant  admission,  a 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  53 

demand  which  David  was  slow  to  grant. 
He  parleyed  with  them  at  length,  giving 
them  voluble  assurance  that  we  had  left  the 
house  without  confiding  to  him  our  inten 
tions.  But  they  were  disposed  to  question 
his  word,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that 
they  knew  him  for  a  good  Whig,  and 
finally  insisted  on  searching  the  place  for 
themselves.  At  last  he  consented  to  admit 
them,  and  they  ransacked  room  after  room, 
doing  not  a  little  damage  in  their  chagrin 
at  not  finding  us,  and  leaving  with  threats 
of  making  a  public  example  of  us  should 
we  be  so  bold  as  to  return.  What  their 
intentions  really  were,  if  we  did  venture  to 
show  ourselves,  David  did  not  hazard  an 
opinion. 

When  David's  recital  of  what  had 
occurred  was  finished,  my  father  announced 
that  we  had  decided  to  turn  our  steps  tow 
ard  Oswego  as  soon  as  it  was  practicable. 
While  our  good  friend  and  servant  deplored 
our  decision,  and  doubted  the  necessity  for 
such  a  move,  saying  in  a  day  or  two  the 
hotheads  would  have  cooled  their  tempers, 


54  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

he  readily  consented  to  aid  us  in  our 
preparations.  It  was  then  agreed  that 
David  and  I  should  hegin  to  provision  the 
boat  on  the  following  night.  In  the  mean 
while  I  proposed  to  venture  through  the 
woods  to  Thompson's  (a  Tory  house  where 
there  were  several  men)  in  search  of 
recruits.  At  our  request  David  consented 
to  see  Van  Eyck  on  the  following  day  with 
the  purpose  of  persuading  him  to  join  us. 
We  realized  that  if  he  could  be  induced 
to  take  this  step  he  would  prove  a  most 
valuable  acquisition,  for  he  was  skilled  as 
as  a  woods-man  as  well  as  a  water-man. 
We  were  unanimous  in  thinking  that  when 
he  heard  of  the  evening's  happenings  he 
would  be  glad  of  the  opportunity  to  remove 
himself  from  the  danger  of  a  like  visita 
tion.  We  were  careful  in  this  conference 
with  David  to  let  fall  no  word  in  regard  to 
St.  Leger  or  the  baronet  and  their  plans. 

In  spite  of  our  enforced  exile,  the  next 
five  days  passed  rapidly.  Van  Eyck's  co 
operation  was  secured,  while  the  two  Thomp 
son  boys  swelled  our  party  to  the  desired 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  55 

number.  The  boat  was  provisioned,  and  a 
rendezvous  arranged  for  the  night  of  the 
7th.  On  the  morning  of  the  day  previ 
ous  I  entrusted  David  with  a  missive  to 
John  Demooth  bidding  him  be  on  the  look 
out  for  me  an  hour  after  nightfall.  I  also 
besought  him  to  see  Margaret  and  tell  her 
that  I  would  be  in  hiding  in  the  shrubbery 
at  the  foot  of  her  mother's  garden  as  near 
as  might  be  to  half  past  nine.  I  realized 
that  I  was  running  great  risks  in  making 
this  venture,  for  David  had  informed  me 
that  Herborn  was  on  the  alert,  the  impres 
sion  prevailing  among  the  Whigs  that  we 
were  concealed  in  the  vicinity.  One  thing, 
however,  I  was  determined  upon  —  go 
Oswego-ward  I  would  not  without  attempt 
ing  to  see  Margaret,  and  without  endeavor 
ing  to  confide  to  my  friend  Demooth  the 
danger  that  menaced  the  Flatts  and  the 
valley. 

For  the  first  time  since  our  sojourn  in 
the  cabin  the  hours  dragged  wearily.  Since 
we  had  taken  up  our  primitive  quarters  my 
father  had  borne  all  discomforts  with  a 


56         THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

patience  hardly  characteristic  of  him,  and 
now  while  I  moved  uneasily  about  the 
clearing,  flicking  off  with  a  birch  goad  the 
fern  tops  and  half-rippened  berries,  he 
paced  calmly  up  and  down  in  the  shade, 
his  features  wholly  unruffled. 

Much  to  my  relief  the  sky  became  over 
cast  as  evening  drew  on,  and  about  an  hour 
after  our  frugal  supper,  under  the  pretext 
of  seeing  David  and  taking  counsel  with 
him,  I  set  out  down  the  trail.  In  parting 
from  my  father  I  bade  him  not  to  be 
alarmed  if  I  did  not  return  until  late,  for 
another  trip  to  the  boat  might  prove  neces 
sary  in  case  anything  had  been  over 
looked.  The  heavens  threatened  rain  and 
the  shadows  deepened  more  swiftly  than 
usual,  so  that  by  the  time  I  reached  the 
edge  of  the  forest  it  was  quite  dusk.  At 
the  house  David  was  on  the  watch  for  my 
coming.  Having  learned  that  my  message 
had  been  delivered  to  Demooth,  and  that 
there  were,  so  far  as  David  was  aware,  no 
new  developments  at  the  Flatts,  I  told  him 
to  come  to  the  cabin  on  the  morrow  for  a 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  57 

final  consultation,  and  hastily  retraced  my 
steps  to  the  verge  of  the  woodland. 

My  path  now  led  me  southward  along  the 
margin  of  the  cleared  land  in  the  direction 
of  a  stream  called  by  the  Indians  the  Slant 
ing  Waters.  Approaching  this,  I  found 
myself  below  the  Flatts.  Here  I  changed 
my  course,  and  following  the  trend  of  a 
snake  fence  soon  reached  the  property  of 
the  Demooths.  As  I  neared  the  out-build 
ings  of  the  farmstead  I  heard  the  sound  of 
horses'  hoofs  and  the  murmur  of  voices. 
Although  there  was  a  strange  brightness 
in  the  upper  air  where  the  moonlight  lit 
up  a  lift  in  the  massing  vapors,  everything 
below  was  indistinct,  so  I  slipped  without 
fear  along  the  lane,  past  the  cow-sheds,  and 
peered  through  the  bars  of  the  great  gate 
into  the  yard  surrounding  the  house.  As 
I  did  so  a  door  swung  back,  and  in  the  fan 
of  light  emitted  I  saw  three  men  dismount 
ing  from  their  horses.  In  the  sturdy  figure 
of  one  I  recognized  the  brigadier,  Nicholas 
Herkimer.  The  elder  Demooth,  lantern 
in  hand,  came  out  to  meet  them,  and 


58  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

I  then  discovered  half  a  dozen  other 
horses  picketed  near.  I  had  inadvertently 
stumbled  upon  a  meeting  of  the  Whig 
leaders. 

Clearly  there  was  no  chance  of  seeing 
my  friend,  so  I  beat  a  hasty  retreat  into 
the  fields,  devoutly  hoping  that  Herborn 
made  one  of  the  company.  Yet  I  knew 
this  was  hardly  likely.  The  presence  of 
General  Herkimer  indicated  that  it  was  a 
gathering  of  older  and  wiser  heads. 

As  I  turned  my  steps  toward  the  home 
of  my  sweetheart  I  began  to  wonder  why 
John  had  not  warned  me  of  this  gathering, 
and  could  only  conclude  that  he  had  been 
kept  in  ignorance  of  it  until  too  late  to  get 
me  word.  If  I  had  the  good  fortune  to 
see  Margaret,  I  resolved  to  confide  in  her 
the  intentions  of  the  invaders,  and  bid  her 
transmit  the  information  to  my  friend. 

I  approached  the  Herborn  place  —  the 
estate  still  bore  the  name  of  the  original 
owner — with  the  greatest  caution.  Making 
a  wide  detour  I  crept  toward  the  shrubbery, 
where  I  intended  to  conceal  myself,  with 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  59 


all  the  stealth  of  an  Indian.  Once  ! 
Margaret  and  I  had  met  here,  and  the 
ground  was  hence  not  wholly  unfamiliar. 
A  pathway  led  from  the  house  to  the  foot 
of  the  garden,  where  a  stone  stile  gave 
access  to  a  marshy  meadow  beyond  which 
flowed  the  Slanting  Waters. 

Crouching  close  to  the  ground,  I  followed 
the  line  of  a  stone  wall  until  I  came  to  the 
stile.  Here  I  paused  to  reconnoiter.  The 
frogs  were  in  full  chorus,  and  far  away 
riverward  a  plover  was  plaintively  crying. 
Near  me  there  was  no  sound  —  not  a  violin 
note  from  a  katydid  or  cricket  —  a  fact  that 
aroused  my  suspicions.  Reminding  myself 
that  these  familiar  noises  are  often  wanting 
when  a  storm  is  imminent,  I  climbed  softly 
over  the  stile  and  slid  into  the  bushes 
upon  one  side  of  the  pathway.  As  I  did 
so  I  fancied  I  detected  a  rustle  among  the 
shrubbery  not  far  distant,  but  hearing 
nothing  further  I  concluded  my  imagina 
tion  had  tricked  me.  My  senses  were  now 
painfully  alert,  and  for  half  an  hour  I 
lay  in  motionless  suspense.  Once  a  twig 


60  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

snapped,  and  I  thought  a  foe  was  upon  me. 
At  last  I  caught  the  low  click  of  a  latch, 
and  a  hinge  creaked  faintly.  Raising  my 
self  upon  one  knee  I  vainly  strove  to  pierce 
the  gloom.  My  excitement  was  such  that 
I  seemed  to  hear  suspicious  noises  in  every 
cranny  and  hollow  about  me,  and  yet  I  had 
no  fear,  so  intent  was  I  upon  getting  sight 
of  the  form  that  I  had  hoped  every  instant 
would  take  shape  in  the  darkness.  There 
was  a  footfall, — another,  and  another,  light, 
fleet,  unmistakably  feminine.  I  started  to 
my  feet  and  stepped  out  upon  the  pathway. 
The  footfalls  ceased. 

"Wilton!"  called  a  suppressed  voice 
apprehensively. 

"Margaret!"  I  said,  and  then  I  had  the 
dear  girl  in  my  arms.  She  was  all  a-tremble, 
and  cried  out  as  she  responded  to  my  caress : 

"You  musn't  stop  a  moment !  Heinrich 
suspects  you  are  coming,  for  he  saw  John 
speaking  with  me  this  morning,  and  has 
watched  me  ever  since." 

"Where  is  your  brother?"  I  asked,  draw 
ing  her  toward  the  stile. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  61 

"  I  don't  know  where  he  may  be  now.  I 
left  him  with  my  mother  a  few  moments 
ago,  saying  I  was  going  to  my  room  ;  then 
I  stole  down  the  rear  stairs  and  out  at  the 
shed  door." 

Hardly  had  she  spoken  when  there  was  a 
shrill  whistle  from  behind  the  stile,  not  more 
than  a  dozen  feet  from  where  we  stood. 
Margaret  clutched  my  arm  as  she  strove  to 
suppress  a  cry  of  terror.  Herborn's  voice 
in  the  direction  of  the  house  replied  to  the 
whistle,  and  there  was  the  crash  of  a  heavy 
body  plunging  through  the  bushes  on  our 
right.  It  was  no  time  for  lingering  fare 
wells,  but  I  gave  my  beloved  one  passionate 
embrace,  whispering,  as  I  kissed  her, 

"Good-by,  dearest.  I'm  off  for  Oswego 
tomorrow.  Don't  fear;  they  sha'n't  catch 
me!" 

Then  I  pushed  her  gently  from  me,  and, 
after  an  instant's  hesitation,  she  ran  toward 
the  house  as  though  she  would  intercept 
her  brother. 

At  this  moment  a  man  sprang  down  from 
the  stile;  the  plunging  form  in  the  bushes 


62  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

was  almost  upon  me ;  and  I  knew  Herborn 
was  rapidly  approaching  along  the  pathway. 
I  saw  that  I  was  in  desperate  plight,  and 
there  was  no  time  to  debate  which  way  I 
should  fly.  On  the  left  of  the  garden  was 
a  dry  ditch,  beyond  which  was  a  row  of  bram 
bles  flanked  in  turn  by  a  high  paling. 
Toward  these  obstructions  I  made  a  bold 
dash,  two  of  my  pursuers  hot  after  me.  I 
took  the  ditch  at  a  flying  leap,  landed  fairly, 
but  floundered  among  the  briers.  Recover 
ing  myself,  I  gripped  the  top  of  the  paling 
just  as  the  feet  of  one  of  the  men  struck 
the  earth  behind  me.  My  heart  sank,  yet  I 
vaulted  with  mad  energy.  A  thorny  withe 
tore  a  great  rent  in  my  breeches,  and  my 
heels  came  in  contact  with  a  pair  of  arms, 
so  instead  of  wholly  clearing  the  obstruction 
I  struck  the  top  of  it,  and  sprawled,  bruised 
and  half  breathless,  in  the  tall  grass  on  the 
other  side.  To  my  pursuers  the  fence 
proved  a  troublesome  obstacle,  so  I  had  a 
few  seconds  in  which  to  recover  myself,  and 
as  the  first  of  them  cleared  the  barrier  I 
sped  away  as  fast  as  my  legs  would  carry 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  63 

me  in  the  direction  of  the  Slanting  Waters. 
The  field  in  which  I  found  myself  was 
similar  to  that  in  the  rear  of  the  garden — a 
meadow,  marshy  and  uneven.  At  any 
moment  I  might  stumble  into  a  bog-hole, 
in  which  case  I  could  hardly  avoid  falling 
into  the  hands  of  Herborn  and  his  compan 
ions,  who,  now  little  more  than  twenty  yards 
distant,  were  straining  every  nerve  to  over 
take  me.  My  bruises  proved  troublesome, 
and  I  began  to  realize  that  I  was  losing 
ground.  This  discovery  incited  me  to 
renewed  exertion,  and  presently  I  forgot 
my  lameness  and  had  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  I  was  drawing  ahead  again. 
It  was  at  this  stage  of  my  flight  that  I 
encountered  the  first  bit  of  marshy  land. 
Trusting  blindly  to  fortune,  I  crossed  it  by 
a  series  of  flying  leaps,  considerably  widen 
ing  the  gap  between  myself  and  those  who 
were  in  chase.  My  advantage  was  only 
temporary,  however,  for  I  was  well-nigh 
mired  shortly  afterward  in  another  watery 
depression.  But  Herborn's  exclamation, 
"We've  got  him!"  acted  as  a  spur,  and 


64  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

once  on  firm  ground  the  proximity  of  the 
stream,  as  revealed  by  the  dark  line  of  trees, 
gave  me  hope. 

At  this  juncture  I  certainly  fell  upon 
luck,  for  I  came  on  the  Slanting  "Waters  at 
an  opening  in  the  dense  foliage  that  fringed 
it,  and  at  a  spot  where  the  bank,  in  most 
places  precipitous  or  abruptly  shelving, 
sloped  gently.  The  current  swept  by,  swift 
and  deep,  swollen  by  severe  thunder-storms 
in  the  upland  wilderness  which  the  creek 
drained.  Indeed  at  this  point — a  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  where  it  debouched  into  the 
Mohawk — the  stream  had  the  appearance 
of  a  river.  The  water  was  washing  high 
upon  the  stones  beyond  a  four-foot  strip  of 
sand.  The  instant  my  feet  came  in  con 
tact  with  the  cobbles  an  idea  that  missed 
little  of  being  an  inspiration  flashed  into 
my  brain.  I  knew  my  three  pursuers  must 
be  within  hearing,  so  I  seized  and  pitched 
several  large  stones,  one  quickly  after  the 
other,  into  the  water.  The  effect  produced 
was  that  of  some  one  plunging  into  the 
stream.  Then  I  ran  a  few  steps  along  the 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  65 

sand  to  a  spot  where  the  bank  began  to 
rise  sharply,  and  wormed  myself  under  the 
overhanging  roots  and  earth.  Here  I  dis 
covered  a  dry  cavity  worn  by  the  action  of 
the  ice  in  some  springtime  freshet — a  most 
secure  hiding-place. 

Hardly  had  I  esconced  myself  before 
there  was  a  rush  of  feet  hard-by. 

"Curse  him!"  panted  the  first  comer, 
"he's  taken  to  the  water." 

"Are  you  sure?"  demanded  Herborn, 
who  was  the  second  to  arrive  upon  the  scene. 

"Sure!    Didn't  you  hear  him  leap  in?" 

"I  did!"  cried  the  third  of  my  pursuers. 

They  hurried  past  my  place  of  conceal 
ment,  and  I  knew  they  were  peering  into 
the  darkness,  straining  their  eyes  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  me. 

"Do  you  see  anything?"  asked  Herborn. 

"I  thought  I  did,  but  it's  only  a  log," 
replied  the  one  whom  he  had  addressed. 
"It's  the  devil  of  a  pity  we  haven't  a  flint." 

This  remark  gave  me  a  thrill  of  relief. 
My  greatest  fear  had  been  that  they  would 
have  the  means  of  striking  a  light. 


66  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

And  now  there  happened  one  of  the 
weirdest  things  that  has  come  under  my 
cognizance.  Seemingly  out  of  the  stream 
not  far  distant,  where  there  was  a  wide 
bend,  there  arose  an  agonizing  cry  that 
died  away  into  a  gurgling  moan.  It  must 
have  been  the  sound  made  by  some  strayed 
animal  of  the  wilds,  or  some  swamp-bird  in 
distress,  and  have  proceeded  from  the  wood 
land  beyond  the  Slanting  Waters,  but  to  me, 
and  to  the  three  men  on  the  shore,  it  was 
like  the  despairing  wail  of  a  human  crea 
ture. 

"By  God!"  shouted  Herborn,  "he's  got 
in  the  eddies  yonder,  and  is  drowning!" 

I  knew  by  the  silence  that  followed  that 
they  were  listening  intently,  and  strained 
my  ears  to  catch  a  repetition  of  the  cry, 
but  none  came. 

"He's  done  for!"  said  one  of  the  other 
two  presently.  "That's  a  cursedly  ugly 
spot  over  there.  I've  often  noticed  it: 
steep  bank,  and  a  mighty  deep  hole  under 
it." 

"Well,  I'd  no  wish  nor  intention  to  drive 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  67 

the  fellow  to  his  death,"  remarked   Her- 
born,  "though  he  was  a  Tory." 

They  lingered  a  few  moments,  listening, 
and  saying  little.  Finally  I  heard  them 
climb  the  bank,  and  then  the  only  audible 
noise  was  the  hoarse  swash  of  the  current. 
They  believed  me  drowned,  that  was  clear, 
and  while  Herborn  might,  in  a  half-hearted 
fashion,  regret  that  he  had  been  indirectly 
the  means  of  my  end,  he  would  hardly  fail  to 
report  my  fate  to  Margaret.  I  was  well  con 
tent  to  remain  dead  for  the  present  so  far 
as  Herborn  and  most  of  the  Whigs  were 
concerned,  but  the  knowledge  that  my  be 
loved  would  mourn  for  me  caused  me  for 
a  space  no  little  disturbance  of  mind.  Then 
the  thought  came  to  me  that  I  could  assure 
her  of  my  safety  through  David  and  John 
Demooth,  and  so,  through  the  thin  rain 
which  had  begun  falling,  I  set  out  buoyantly 
for  our  refuge  in  the  woodland  cabin. 


CHAPTER   IV 
In  the  Wilderness 

I  WAS  forced  to  move  slowly,  the  dark 
ness  had  so  increased,  and  it  was  hard 
upon  midnight  ere  I  reached  the  trail 
through  the  forest.  Here  new  difficulties 
beset  my  path,  owing  to  the  denseness  of 
the  gloom,  and  I  lost  my  way  half  a  dozen 
times  before  I  came  to  the  slope  at  the  crest 
of  which  the  cabin  stood.  To  my  infinite 
surprise  a  flickering  light  shone  from  the 
doorway,  and  I  hastened  forward  in  appre 
hension.  Attracted  by  the  noise  of  my 
approach,  a  man  appeared  upon  the 
threshold,  shading  his  eyes  so  that  he 
might  pierce  the  thick  shadows.  As  I 
drew  nearer  I  recognized  him  as  Silas,  the 
elder  of  the  Thompson  boys. 

"Hello ! "  he  cried,  half  raising  the  rifle 
he  held  in  his  hand.  "Who  is  it?" 

"'Tis  I,  Wilton  Aubrey,"  I  replied. 

"  We  've  been  waiting  for  you  these  two 
hours,"  said  he,  as  he  grasped  my  hand. 

68 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  69 

My  father  and  Will  Thompson  now  joined 
us,  and  there  was  a  series  of  questions  and 
counter-questions. 

"  Did  you  see  Van  Eyck?"  the  Thomp 
sons  demanded,  taking  it  for  granted  that 
I  had  been  to  the  boat. 

"No;  I  wonder  where  he  can  be?"  I 
said,  feeling  my  ground  a  little. 

"  Silas  had  word  from  him  late  this  even 
ing,"  interposed  my  father, "  that  the  Whigs 
have  discovered  we  are  hiding  here  and 
are  planning  to  surprise  us  to-morrow.  It 
is  Van  Eyck's  advice  that  we  get  off 
to-night." 

"He  said  he  'd  be  on  hand  at  the  boat  at 
two  o'clock,"  put  in  Will  Thompson.  '•'  We 
sha'n't  be  much  late  if  we  start  at  once." 

Then  he  added,  turning  to  me : 

"  We  'd  have  left  before,  but  were  afraid 
of  missing  you." 

"  There 's  nothing  to  delay  us  now,"  said 
my  father. 

"  But  David ! "  I  exclaimed,  having  in 
mind  my  message  to  Margaret. 

"  Oh,  he  will  understand  why  we  have 


70  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

hastened  away,  never  fear !  And  there  are 
really  no  further  instructions  to  give  him. 
I  can 't  see  that  it  matters  a  whit." 

Although  my  father  intended  thus  to  dis 
miss  the  matter  of  David,  I  resolved,  inas 
much  as  the  most  direct  route  to  the  boat 
would  take  us  past  the  house,  that  I  would 
rouse  our  faithful  servitor  and  have  a  word 
with  him. 

The  possessions  we  intended  to  carry 
were  collected,  Will  Thompson  took  from 
its  cranny  the  half-burned  pine  torch,  and 
our  little  company  started.  We  agreed 
that  until  we  neared  the  cleared  land 
there  would  be  no  danger  in  the  lighted 
flambeau.  The  rain  was  still  falling,  but 
it  had  not  perceptibly  increased  in  force, 
and,  for  the  present,  protected  much  of 
the  time  by  the  trees,  it  caused  us  but 
trifling  inconvenience. 

After  the  torch  had  been  extinguished 
and  we  had  come  to  the  three  pines  in  the 
rear  of  our  home,  I  made  known  my  deter 
mination  to  speak  with  David.  My  father 
and  both  the  Thompsons  demurred,  but  I 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  71 

was  stubborn,  and  they  finally  consented 
to  a  brief  halt. 

I  know  not  what  impelled  me  to  approach 
the  house  cautiously,  but  certainly  it  proved 
most  fortunate  that  I  did  so.  Thinking  I 
detected  a  noise  near  the  rear  doorway, 
I  paused  by  the  well-sweep  and  listened. 
I  had  about  decided  that  I  had  been  deceived 
by  my  imagination  when  a  man  rose  from 
the  doorstep  and  moved  toward  me.  I  was 
so  startled  that  for  an  instant  I  had  no 
power  of  action.  When  I  recovered  from 
my  surprise  I  crouched  close  to  the  earth, 
and  presently  the  man  stopped. 

"Umph!"  I  heard  him  say.  "I  must 
have  been  dreaming.  I  thought  I  saw 
something  moving  out  here." 

He  yawned,  stretched  himself,  and  shuf 
fled  back  to  his  post  of  observation,  while  I, 
with  all  possible  care,  retreated  and  joined 
my  waiting  companions. 

"We  must  be  on  our  guard,"  I  an 
nounced  ;  "  the  house  is  watched." 

"  They  suspect  David  now  that  they 
know  you  are  still  in  the  neighborhood," 
said  Silas  Thompson. 


72  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

As  we  warily  made  our  way  to  the  river, 
the  realization  that  I  must  leave  the  Flatts, 
for  I  knew  not  how  long  a  period,  without 
sending  any  message  to  Margaret  came  upon 
me  with  full  force,  and  the  thought  was 
bitter  indeed.  Others,  doubtless,  would 
warn  the  valley  in  due  tune  of  the  ap 
proach  of  St.  Leger  and  his  forces,  but 
there  would  be  no  one  to  bear  to  my 
beloved  the  assurance  of  my  safety.  Forced 
by  circumstances  into  a  position  I  abhorred, 
racked  in  mind  and  exhausted  in  body,  it 
is  small  wonder  that  despair  took  hold  upon 
me,  and  I  cared  little  whether  I  was  living 
or  dead.  I  gave  no  heed  to  the  irascible 
Dutchman's  complaints  at  our  late  arrival, 
and  had  to  be  roused  by  a  sharp  word  from 
my  father  to  do  my  part  in  getting  the 
boat  under  way. 

Our  craft  was  built  after  the  model  of  the 
large  river  bateaux.  It  was  flat-bottomed 
and  equipped  with  both  poles  and  oars. 
There  were  traverse  seats,  as  in  an  ordi 
nary  row  boat,  and  along  the  sides,  a  foot 
or  more  below  the  gunwale,  a  plank  was 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  73 

stretched  on  which  to  stand  while  punting. 
Though  ugly  in  appearance  the  boat  was 
stanch,  and  we  had  nothing  to  fear  either 
from  snags  or  sharp  rocks. 

I  can  recall  little  that  happened  during 
the  first  hours  of  our  journey.  Van  Eyck, 
at  the  prow,  kept  a  sharp  lookout  ahead, 
shouting  back  his  commands  to  my  father, 
who  was  steering.  The  other  three  of  us 
relieved  one  another  at  the  oars.  When 
rowing  I  bent  to  my  work  doggedly,  though 
my  muscles  ached  and  my  head  was  in  a 
whirl ;  when  it  was  my  turn  to  rest  I  lay  in 
a  kind  of  stupor  on  the  canvas  of  the  tent. 
Toward  morning  the  weather  cleared,  and 
the  sun  had  risen  before  we  drew  into  a 
little  cove  and  beached  our  boat.  So  over 
come  was  I  with  fatigue  that  I  flung  my 
self  upon  the  grass  beneath  a  great  syca 
more,  and  was  soon  in  a  profound  slumber. 
When  roused  for  breakfast  I  ate  mechani 
cally,  and  then  stretched  myself  out  and 
fell  asleep  again.  It  was  mid-afternoon 
before  I  awakened.  I  was  stiff,  and  there 
there  was  a  queer  feeling  in  my  head,  but 


74  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

on  stirring  about  this  passed  away.  I  found 
Van  Eyck  preparing  to  cook  some  bacon 
over  a  glowing  bed  of  coals;  the  Thompson 
boys  were  making  the  few  additional  pre 
parations  for  our  primitive  meal,  while  my 
father,  the  picture  of  content,  was  reclining 
upon  a  blanket  and  watching  the  proceed 
ings  with  a  lively  interest. 

Our  next  halt  was  at  twilight,  but  we 
hastened  on  again  as  soon  as  the  moon  rose. 
Toward  morning  we  once  more  encamped, 
and  rested  till  the  following  midday,  when 
we  continued  our  voyage  until  we  reached 
the  mouth  of  Six  Mile  Creek,  about  two 
miles  and  a  half  from  Fort  Stanwix,  the 
point  of  portage  to  Wood  Creek,  the  old 
"  carrying-place  "  of  the  Indians.  To  avoid 
being  seen  and  detained  by  the  garrison  of 
the  fort  we  must  make  the  portage  after 
dark,  and  midnight  seemed  the  most  suit 
able  hour  for  the  attempt.  It  was  about 
eleven  when  we  pushed  our  boat  into  mid 
stream.  A  brisk  south  breeze  was  blowing, 
and  clouds  were  racing  across  the  face  of 
the  moon.  There  was  no  need  of  proceed- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  75 

ing  with  caution  until  we  approached  the 
spot  where  bateaux  commonly  landed.  This 
was  some  distance  from  the  fort,  but  inas 
much  as  we  thought  it  quite  possible  we 
might  find  guards  here  stationed  we  scanned 
the  shore  narrowly  as  we  drew  near.  A 
bittern  rose  from  the  reeds  close  at  hand 
and  whirred  away  with  an  angry  boom. 
For  the  moment  we  were  startled,  but  the 
presence  of  the  bird  made  it  clear  that 
there  were  no  watchers  to  be  feared,  so  we 
hastened  partially  to  unload  our  boat, 
bestowing  a  portion  of  our  possessions  in 
the  canvas  of  the  tent.  Although  two 
journeys  were  necessary,  we  accomplished 
the  portage  easily  and  without  incident, 
thanks  to  Van  Eyck's  perfect  familiarity 
with  the  ground.  While  we  silently  passed 
and  repassed  near  the  fort,  I  gazed  at 
its  dark  outline  and  wondered  how  soon, 
and  under  what  circumstances,  I  should 
visit  the  scene  again,  little  dreaming  how 
many  dramatic  episodes  were  here  shortly 
to  be  enacted,  and  how  prominent  a  part  I 
was  destined  to  take  hi  them. 


76  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Owing  to  the  excitement  and  to  the  nov 
elty  of  our  experiences,  now  that  I  had 
recovered  from  the  strain  of  my  night's  ad 
ventures  by  the  Slanting  Waters,  I  had 
somewhat  regained  my  spirits,  though  I 
could  never  long  banish  Margaret  from  my 
mind,  and  at  times  the  thought  of  her, 
nearly  distraught —  as  my  fancy  pictured 
her  —  over  my  wretched  end,  seemed  more 
than  I  could  bear. 

Wood  Creek,  the  stream  on  which  we 
now  embarked,  was  as  strange  a  water 
course  as  ever  man  adventured  upon.  It 
was  narrow  and  incredibly  serpentine, 
bending  back  upon  itself  until  it  seemed 
as  though  we  made  no  progress  whatever. 
Moreover  it  traversed  a  swampy  region, 
much  of  which  was  overgrown  by  a  well- 
nigh  impenetrable  forest.  Our  advance 
was  marked  with  infinite  labor.  Now  we 
stuck  upon  a  snag ;  now  we  were  grounded 
upon  a  mud-bank ;  now  we  were  halted  by 
a  matted  mass  of  reeds.  Huge  and  un 
couth  birds,  roused  from  their  slumbers, 
would  wing  away  with  raucous  cries  j 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  77 

animals  of  the  wilderness  would  sound  a 
sudden  summons  to  us  from  out  of  the 
gloom,  until  my  father  and  myself,  unac 
customed  to  these  weird  and  uncanny 
noises,  began  to  feel  that  we  had  come 
into  a  land  of  demons. 

Presently  we  wholly  lost  sight  of  the 
sky,  interlacing  vines  and  overhanging 
boughs  shut  out  the  moonlight,  and  we 
were  forced  to  kindle  a  blaze  of  pine  knots 
in  one  of  our  iron  pans.  Placing  this  im 
provised  torch  in  the  prow,  we  worked 
slowly  forward,  yet  when  the  gray  of 
dawn  began  to  show  we  had  progressed 
but  a  few  miles  into  the  dreary  waste. 
Never,  I  vow,  was  the  light  of  morning 
more  welcome,  and  as  soon  as  we  were 
able  to  see  the  nature  of  the  ground  about 
us  we  selected  a  dry  spot  and  encamped. 

I  had  been  unconscious  a  number  of 
hours  when  I  was  awakened  by  the  tor 
menting  attacks  of  gnats  and  mosquitoes. 
After  vainly  trying  to  fight  them  off,  I  got 
upon  my  feet,  and,  finding  my  companions 
still  slumbering,  walked  on  tiptoe  until  I 


78  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

had  put  a  short  distance  between  us,  and 
then  strolled  on  into  the  woods  which,  at 
this  point,  were  not  dense.  I  had  no 
special  thought  in  mind  save  to  rid  myself 
from  the  pestering  insects,  and  had  no 
notion  of  wandering  any  distance,  for  I 
realized  in  how  dangerous  a  predicament  I 
should  be  if  I  chanced  to  lose  my  way. 
I  had  gone  as  far  as  seemed  wise,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  turning  back  when  I  came 
upon  a  grassy  space,  bare  of  trees,  through 
which  ran  a  well-beaten  trail. 

Indians!  The  sight  of  the  trail  put  them 
instantly  into  my  mind,  and  a  sensation  of 
danger  swept  over  me  which  amounted  to 
nothing  short  of  instinct.  In  breathless 
haste  I  concealed  myself  behind  a  tangle 
of  wild  berry  bushes  that  grew  on  one  side 
of  the  path,  and  it  was  well  I  did  so,  for  I 
had  little  more  than  crouched  down  when 
out  of  the  forest  issued  a  band  of  savages 
in  single  file,  hideously  painted  and  well 
armed.  Two  of  them  had  fresh  scalps 
dangling  at  their  belts,  and  I  was  horrified 
to  see  that  a  white  man  wearing  the  buff 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  79 

and  blue  uniform  of  a  Continental  soldier 
was  marching  in  their  midst,  their  prisoner. 
He  was  gagged,  his  hands  were  tied  behind 
him,  and  there  was  a  look  upon  his  face 
that  would  have  moved  the  stoniest  heart 
to  compassion.  One  Indian  was  leading 
him  by  a  leathern  noose  which  was  fastened 
about  his  neck,  while  another  behind  kept 
prodding  him  viciously  with  a  hunting 
knife.  There  were  twenty  in  the  band, 
and  they  passed  me  like  so  many  evil 
shadows. 

As  they  vanished  in  the  forest  I  slipped 
from  my  concealment  and  watched  them 
until  a  turn  in  the  trail  shut  them  from 
sight.  What  madness  possessed  me,  what 
blind  recklessness  seized  me,  I  know  not, 
but  with  scarcely  an  instant's  hesitation  I 
crept  after  them.  Never  did  it  occur  to 
me  that  to  rescue  the  poor  wretch  from  the 
clutches  of  the  savages  was  a  wild  impossi 
bility,  something  that  half  a  dozen  experi 
enced  woodsmen  would  have  hesitated  to 
attempt.  The  awful  anguish  written  upon 
the  soldier's  face  was  burned  into  my  brain, 


80  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

and  more  and  more  determined  to  succor 
him  did  I  become  as  I  followed  the  foot- 
steps  of  his  captors. 

Careful  to  keep  far  enough  in  the  rear  to 
avoid  the  danger  of  discovery,  at  length, 
after  having  been  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  upon  their  track,  I  saw  that  they  had 
reached  their  camping  -  place.  We  had 
drawn  away  from  Wood  Creek  to  higher 
ground.  The  trees  in  the  vicinity  were 
largely  maples  and  hemlocks,  and  as  the 
latter  were  of  the  scrub  variety  I  had  an 
excellent  opportunity  to  approach  the  en 
campment,  as  I  supposed,  unobserved. 
Abandoning  the  trail,  I  advanced  with  the 
greatest  caution,  and  had  almost  arrived  at 
a  point  where  I  could  detect  what  the  red 
skins  were  about  when  the  swish  of  a  re 
leased  bough  caused  me  to  look  back. 
There,  little  more  than  a  dozen  feet  distant, 
stood  an  Indian,  tomahawk  in  hand,  a  grin 
of  triumph  on  his  hideous  features.  I  was 
too  amazed  to  move  or  speak,  and  the 
mouth  of  the  savage  widened  as  he  regarded 
me.  Then  something  so  surprising  occurred 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  81 

that  my  expression  must  have  changed 
suddenly,  for  the  Indian's  suspicions  were 
aroused.  From  behind  a  thick  scrub  hem 
lock  the  slim  and  sinewy  form  of  Van  Eyck 
appeared  like  an  apparition.  As  unerring 
as  ever  panther  sprang  he  leaped  upon  the 
redskin,  before  the  savage  had  time  to 
turn.  One  set  of  powerful  fingers  gripped 
the  Indian's  throat  and  stifled  his  cry  for 
aid;  the  other  seized  the  wrist  of  the  hand 
which  held  the  tomahawk,  and  the  weapon 
dropped  useless  to  the  earth. 

"Quick!  "  cried  Van  Eyck,  in  an  under 
tone,  as  he  laid  the  half-strangled  savage  on 
the  ground,  "  take  his  knife  and  cut  his  leg 
gings  into  strips.  We  must  bind  him." 

I  did  as  commanded  with  as  much  expe 
dition  as  my  shaking  hands  would  permit, 
and  together  we  secured  and  gagged  our 
captive. 

"He'll  free  himself  after  a  few  hours,  if 
they  don't  find  him  before  then,"  said  Van 
Eyck.  "  In  the  meanwhile  this  is  no  place 
for  us." 

I  realized  but  too  well  the  truth  of  this 


82  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

statement,  although  the  thought  of  the 
poor  soldier  still  tugged  at  my  heart.  Do 
ing  as  Van  Eyck  bade,  I  followed  in  his 
footsteps,  and  ere  long  we  stood  in  the 
grassy  space  where  I  had  first  seen  the  red 
skins.  Here  my  rescuer  paused  and  looked 
at  me  quizzically,  his  grim,  swarthy  fea 
tures  gradually  changing  into  something 
like  a  smile.  Presently  he  thrust  his  long 
lean  finger  at  me. 

"Young  man,"  he  said,  in  his  curious 
broken  English,  which  it  would  be  impos 
sible  to  reproduce,  "let  me  give  you  a 
grain  of  advice,  and  do  you  treasure  it  up, 
for  old  Van  Eyck  knows  what  he 's  talking 
about.  Whatever  else  you  fool  with,  let  a 
red  *  Injun'  alone.  You  may  think  the 
dirty  rascals  are  with  us  in  this  struggle, 
but  I  tell  you  if  they  found  you  spying  on 
their  camp — friend  or  foe — they'd  cut  you 
up  and  feed  you  to  their  dogs.  To  an 
( Injun*  a  white  man's  a  white  man,  and 
however  pretty  the  cusses  may  talk  to  your 
face  they'll  scalp  you  on  the  quiet  if  they 
get  the  chance,  and  I  reckon  you'd  rather 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  83 

know  your  scalp's  on  your  own  head  than 
drying  in  a  wigwam,  even  if  it's  that  of  the 
biggest  chief  of  the  Six  Nations." 

This  speech  delivered,  the  wisdom  and 
truth  of  which  I  had  occasion  to  recall 
later,  Van  Eyck  led  on  again,  and  it  was 
not  until  afterwards  that  I  learned  how  he 
had  chanced  to  come  so  opportunely  to 
my  assistance.  Awakening  soon  after  I 
strolled  away  from  our  camping  place,  he 
had  noted  my  absence,  and  fearful  lest  I 
should  become  lost  in  the  forest  had  traced 
my  steps  to  the  Indian  trail.  Surmising 
what  I  had  done,  he  set  hastily  out  in  pur 
suit,  detected  the  savage  (probably  a  strag 
gler  belonging  to  the  band)  hard  upon  my 
heels,  and  doubtless  saved  me  from  a  very 
harrowing  experience,  if  not  from  death. 

We  found  my  father  and  the  two  Thomp 
sons  in  a  state  of  wonder  and  anxiety. 

"  We  've  just  been  into  the  woods  a  bit," 
said  Van  Eyck  in  response  to  their  inquiries. 
"  We've  seen  some  i Injun'  signs  —  "  here 
he  screwed  one  eye  around  and  winked 
slyly  at  me  — "  and  we  might  better  be 
getting  along." 


84  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Fortunately  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  at 
Fort  Stanwix  had  not  as  yet  been  able  to  do 
much  toward  obstructing  Wood  Creek,  ow 
ing  to  the  presence  of  the  Indians,  and  after 
an  hour  or  two  our  progress  was  quite  en 
couraging,  a  fact  that  was  in  part  due  to  the 
gradually  widening  channel.  I  own  that  I 
was  far  from  comfortable  during  the  remain 
der  of  that  day,  and  I  saw  that  Van  Eyck 
was  apprehensive,  for  he  kept  watch  of  the 
wooded  banks  with  a  lynx-like  scrutiny. 
Our  voyage,  however,  was  uninterrupted, 
and  when,  late  that  evening,  we  camped 
upon  the  shore  of  Oneida  Lake,  on  the  far 
ther  side  of  Fish  Creek,  I  felt  for  the  first 
time  since  my  narrow  escape  something  like 
security. 

But  the  fair  fortune  that  had  thus  far  at 
tended  us  on  our  journey  deserted  us  on  the 
following  day.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  as 
we  were  approaching  the  lower  end  of  the 
lake,  we  were  overtaken  by  a  severe 
thunder-storm,  our  boat  was  nearly  swamped, 
and  we  were  all  of  us  drenched  to  the  skin. 
Then  came  a  sudden  change  in  the  atmos- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  85 

phere.  The  wind,  which  had  been  blow 
ing  from  the  south  all  day,  materially  assist 
ing  our  progress,  veered  swiftly  to  the 
west.  The  air  grew  more  and  more  chilly 
as  night  descended,  and  by  the  time  we 
reached  the  deserted  walls  of  Fort  Brewer- 
ton  we  were  every  one  of  us,  in  our  still 
soaking  clothing,  shaking  with  the  cold. 

In  one  of  the  cabins  formerly  used  as  the 
officers'  quarters  we  kindled  a  great  fire  in 
the  rude  stone  fire-place,  and  spread  out 
our  wet  garments  to  dry.  I  gave  my  father 
a  vigorous  rubbing,  brewed  him  a  hot 
drink,  and  wrapped  him  in  a  pair  of  blan 
kets  that  had  escaped  the  general  deluge. 
In  spite  of  these  precautions,  before  an 
hour  had  passed  he  was  in  a  high  fever. 
Thus  he  lay  for  several  days,  while  I  strove 
to  keep  a  brave  heart,  knowing  all  the 
time  that  his  condition  was  most  critical, 
and  seeing  by  the  manner  of  my  compan 
ions  that  they  shared  in  my  anxiety.  Only 
when  forced  to  do  so  from  exhaustion  did  I 
leave  my  father's  side,  and  then  he  had 
from  my  comrades  the  same  watchful  care 


86  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

which  I  gave  him.  I  suffered  more  during 
these  hours  of  uncertainty  than  later  when 
I  had  to  confront  sorrow  face  to  face.  My 
trying  and  unnatural  position  was  forgot 
ten  ;  even  my  grief  over  leaving  my  sweet 
heart  under  such  a  gloomy  cloud  became 
as  naught.  I  seemed  to  see  my  father, 
who  had  ever  cherished  me  so  fondly,  and 
for  whom  I  had  the  warmest  affection 
despite  our  differences,  wasting  away  before 
me.  The  last  strong  tie  of  blood  that 
bound  me  to  my  kind  was,  to  all  appear 
ance,  about  to  be  severed. 

But  the  fever  left  him  unexpectedly ;  his 
old  energy  and  stubbornness  reasserted 
themselves,  and  one  morning  when  I  was 
discussing  with  Van  Eyck  outside  our  quar 
ters  the  feasibility  of  resuming  our  journey 
after  two  or  three  days'  further  waiting  my 
father  called  me  to  him  and  proposed  that 
we  start  at  once.  This  proposition  at  first 
struck  me  as  the  height  of  folly,  but  after 
the  matter  had  been  talked  over  with  the 
others  we  decided  to  venture  it.  The  inva 
lid  throve  under  the  change,  and  on  the 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  87 

afternoon  of  the  18th  of  July  we  disem 
barked  at  the  rude  landing-place  at  Oswego, 
and  took  up  our  abode  in  one  of  the  dis 
used  traders'  houses  within  a  stone's  throw 
of  the  fort. 


CHAPTER  V 
At  Oswego 

JUST  before  noontime  on  the  third  day 
after  our  arrival  I  ascended  to  the 
summer-house  which  the  energetic 
Major  Duncan  (he  who  commanded  the 
post  for  several  years  after  the  French  and 
Indian  War)  had  caused  to  be  constructed 
among  the  boughs  of  a  lofty  linden  which 
stood  at  the  end  of  the  bowling-green 
southeast  of  the  fortifications.  It  was  little 
more  than  a  rough  platform,  but  it  afforded 
a  wide  view  of  the  lake  to  the  east  beyond 
the  tongue  of  land  which  in  part  sheltered 
the  harbor  entrance.  I  had  discovered  the 
outlook  the  day  we  reached  Oswego,  and  had 
repaired  thither,  at  my  father's  request, 
several  times  between  each  rising  and  set 
ting  of  the  sun  to  scan  the  lake  in  search 
of  the  constantly  expected  armament.  It 
was  delightfully  cool,  and  with  a  blanket 
for  a  cushion  and  the  tree  trunk  for  a  back 

88 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  89 

I  had  spent  a  number  of  quiet  hours  in  this 
leafy  aerie. 

I  must  confess  that  frequently  I  paid 
small  heed  to  the  sweeping  curves  of  the 
shore-line,  and  the  distant  point  where  the 
boats  of  St.  Leger  were  first  likely  to  come 
into  view.  My  mind  would  revert  to  the 
Flatts  and  Margaret,  and  then  I  had  no 
eyes  for  the  shimmering  blue  water  and 
no  ears  for  the  bird-song  that  ever  broke 
in  little  waves  of  melody  about  me. 

I  had  already  made  one  considerable 
tarry  in  the  tree  top  that  morning,  and 
was  not  now  inclined  to  remain.  So  having 
given  the  coast  and  the  horizon  careful 
scrutiny,  and  satisfied  myself  that  there 
was  no  sign  of  the  awaited  expedition,  I 
descended  leisurely  with  the  intention  of 
seeking  out  my  father  and  delivering  my 
accustomed  report. 

Although  the  bowling-green,  where  the 
officers  amused  themselves  in  Major  Dun 
can's  day,  was  still  smooth  and  grassy,  the 
ground  beyond  it,  which  had  once  been 
cleared  and  used  as  a  vegetable  garden, 


90  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

was  a  tangle  of  weeds,  briers,  and  small 
maple  saplings.  Hardly  had  I  regained  an 
erect  posture  after  my  spring  from  the 
lower  branches  of  the  linden  when  this 
thicket  parted  and  an  Indian  stepped  into 
sight.  Saluting  me  with  just  a  perceptible 
nod,  and  giving  me  "good-day"  in  the  best 
of  English,  he  came  toward  me  across  the 
green. 

Startled  though  I  was,  I  did  my  best  to 
return  his  greeting  as  though  I  had  been 
accustomed  all  my  life  to  have  Indians 
appear  to  me  in  this  fashion.  I  had  an 
excellent  chance  to  observe  him  as  he 
approached.  His  dress  was  half  savage 
and  half  civilized.  He  was  tall,  yet  well 
knit,  and  while  his  face  showed  many  racial 
marks  there  was  that  in  it  which  betokened 
unusual  character.  The  feathers  in  his 
head-dress  told  me  he  was  a  chief,  but  his 
manner  would  have  afforded  reason  for 
this  belief  had  there  been  nothing  visible 
to  indicate  his  rank. 

He  eyed  me  sharply  as  he  drew  nigh. 

"I  have  never  seen  you  before,"  he  said, 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  91 

his  gaze  still  upon  me.  "  You  are  not  of 
Colonel  Butler's  company." 

"No,"  I  answered,  "I  am  here  with  my 
father  to  join  Colonel  St.  Leger." 

We  were  now  standing  facing  one  another 
in  the  center  of  the  green. 

"  You  come  from  the  Mohawk  Valley 
perhaps?" 

I  assented. 

"  My  old  home,"  he  said. 

"  Ah ! "  I  returned. 

"  Yes ;  possibly  you  may  have  heard  of 
me  there.  I  am  Captain  Brant." 

I  had  surmised  as  much  when  he  said  the 
valley  was  his  former  home,  yet  I  felt  a 
strange  chill  pass  over  me  at  the  sound  of 
his  name,  though  at  this  time  it  was  by  no 
means  so  dreaded  as  it  grew  to  be  later. 
The  title  "  Captain,"  conferred  upon  him 
by  the  English,  he  was  fond  of  using  when 
among  white  men. 

He  forebore  to  question  me  in  regard  to 
my  identity,  but  I  saw  that  he  was  waiting 
for  me  to  inform  him  who  I  was. 

"I  am  called  Wilton  Aubrey,"  I  said. 


92  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"  I  have  heard  of  your  father,"  he  re 
plied. 

His  speech  had  the  Indian  terseness,  and 
his  nationality  showed  itself  in  the  deep 
tones  of  his  voice.  One  listening  to  his 
conversation,  however,  and  not  seeing  the 
man,  would  hardly  have  detected  that  he 
was  not  using  his  native  tongue. 

"Our  friends,"  he  said,  lifting  his  eyes  to 
the  top  of  the  linden  —  "  they  have  not  yet 
been  sighted  ?  " 

"  There  is  at  present  no  sign  of  them,"  I 
answered. 

He  led  the  way  downward  toward  the 
river,  asking  a  few  keen  questions  as  we 
went.  Despite  his  pleasant  manner,  it  was 
with  a  feeling  of  relief  that  I  parted  from 
him  at  the  door  of  the  block-house  where  we 
were  lodged,  and  watched  him  swing  easily 
on  to  the  water-side.  Here  he  stepped  into 
a  canoe,  seized  the  paddle,  and  was  soon 
skimming  across  the  harbor  toward  the  op 
posite  shore,  where  he  disappeared  in  the 
wood. 

Two  days  later  when  I  climbed  to  my 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  93 

post  of  observation  at  mid-morning,  I  de 
scried  several  black  specks  dotting  the 
water  in  the  far  distance.  I  hailed  my  dis 
covery  with  joy.  In  my  present  mood  in 
action  was  well-nigh  intolerable.  Constant 
activity  was  my  only  refuge  from  the 
thoughts  that  crowded  upon  me ;  for,  strug 
gle  as  I  would,  I  could  not  put  the  hateful 
part  I  was  forced  to  play  from  my  mind. 
Yet  I  meant  to  do  faithfully  what  appeared 
to  be  my  duty. 

My  father  received  my  news  with  undis 
guised  delight.  He  was  far  from  strong, 
yet  his  wonderful  nervous  energy  made 
him  seem  almost  vigorous. 

The  tidings  spread  rapidly,  and  by  the 
time  the  boats  rounded  the  adjacent  point 
all  Butler's  corps,  and  a  small  body  of  In 
dians  under  Brant,  had  gathered  upon  the 
beach  to  greet  them.  As  the  bateaux  swung 
into  full  view  a  ringing  cheer  went  up  from 
the  "  Rangers,"  and  a  wild  war-whoop  from 
the  savages. 

"I  don't  see  St.  Leger,"  my  father  said, 
shading  his  eyes  and  gazing  intently  at  the 


94  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

nearing  force.  "  And  surely  there  must  be 
other  boats !  It  would  be  madness  to  pro 
ceed  against  Fort  Stanwix  with  these  few 
men." 

We  continued  to  scan  the  bateaux  eagerly. 

"  There  are  Sir  John  and  Colonel  Glaus ! " 
cried  my  father  at  length.  "Yes;  they  rec 
ognize  me/'  and  he  waved  his  hand  in  re 
sponse  to  a  similar  greeting  from  two  men 
standing  side  by  side  in  the  nearest  craft. 

"Glad  to  see  you,  Aubrey,"  called  tha 
colonel,  as  they  drew  within  hailing  distance. 

"Is  St.  Leger  with  you?"  shouted  my 
father. 

"No;  he's  several  days  behind  with  the 
rest  of  the  command,"  was  the  reply. 

The  foremost  bateaux  was  soon  beached, 
and  the  leaders  leaped  ashore.  They  shook 
hands  warmly  with  my  father,  who  presented 
me  to  them.  Colonel  Claus,  who  was  the 
baronet's  brother-in-law,  and  considerably 
his  senior,  greeted  me  cordially,  but  in  Sir 
John's  manner  toward  me  I  detected  an  ill- 
concealed  coldness.  Instantly  I  felt  re 
pelled,  the  whole  air  of  the  man  was  in  such 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  95 

direct  contrast  with  the  bluff,  hearty  bearing 
of  the  colonel.  There  was  a  hard  look 
about  his  eyes,  and  I  fancied  I  saw  a  sneer 
lurking  in  the  curve  of  his  lips.  He  turned 
to  give  some  orders  to  the  officers  in  com 
mand  of  the  other  boats,  and  with  my  father 
and  Colonel  Glaus  I  withdrew  to  a  point  a 
little  above  the  scene  of  disembarkation. 

"These  men  belong  to  Sir  John's  regi 
ment  and  to  the  Hanau  Chasseurs,"  said 
the  colonel.  "  You  will  find  some  old  ac 
quaintances  among  the  '  Greens/  as  we  call 
Sir  John's  troop." 

"  Yes,"  replied  my  father,  "  I  already 
notice  familiar  faces. ' ' 

Brant  now  approached  and  addressed  our 
companion,  who  walked  away  with  him. 
Shortly  we  were  joined  by  the  Thomp 
son  boys  and  Van  Eyck,  and  with  them 
watched  with  interest  the  unloading  of  the 
boats.  This  task  accomplished,  several 
companies  formed  into  line  and  marched 
toward  the  fort,  while  the  remaining  men 
busied  themselves  over  the  disposal  of  the 
provisions  and  camp  equipment.  For  the 


96  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

rest  of  the  day  there  was  no  lack  of  occu 
pation.  The  Thompsons  and  Van  Eyck 
were  at  once  enrolled  in  one  of  Sir.  John's 
companies,  and  left  us  to  take  up  their 
quarters  with  their  comrades.  Acquain 
tances  of  my  father's  were  constantly  com 
ing  and  going,  and  toward  night  there  was 
a  brief  drill  upon  the  parade-ground  within 
the  fort.  Before  my  father's  position  and 
mine  in  the  expedition  could  be  determined 
it  was  necessary  to  await  the  arrival  of  the 
commander-in-chief,  consequently  for  the 
present  we  were  only  spectators. 

Late  that  evening  I  heard  a  wild  hollo 
ing  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  harbor. 
My  father  had  retired,  but  I  still  sat  with 
out,  too  full  of  excitement  over  the  scenes 
of  the  day  to  feel  in  the  least  drowsy. 
Rising,  I  went  toward  the  waterside,  where 
I  encountered  several  of  the  "Rangers." 

"What's  going  on?  "  said  I. 

"A  party  of  Brant's  Indians  is  just 
arriving,"  answered  one  of  the  group  with 
a  shrug.  "Its  a  jolly  good  job  they  are 
our  friends.  I  shouldn't  care  to  march 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  97 

into  the  wilderness  if  they  were  n't,  I  can 
tell  you." 

Suddenly  a  great  tongue  of  flame  shot 
up  into  the  black  hollow  of  the  night,  and 
we  beheld  fifty  or  more  half-naked  forms 
dancing  with  piercing  whoops  and  uncouth 
gyrations  in  a  cleared  space  upon  the 
farther  bank.  Fascinated  by  the  weird 
spectacle,  I  watched  them  until  they  finally 
ceased  from  sheer  exhaustion,  and  then 
took  my  way  slowly  back  to  the  block 
house.  As  I  drew  near  the  corner  of  the 
building  I  saw  a  solitary  figure  awaiting 
my  approach.  At  first  I  thought  it  was 
my  father,  who  had  been  roused  by  the 
savage  clamor  and  had  come  out  to  discover 
what  was  taking  place.  I  soon  realized, 
however,  that  it  was  a  man  of  heavier 
build,  but  I  did  not  recognize  him  until  he 
addressed  me.  It  was  Sir  John  Johnson. 

"  Your  father  is  within,  I  presume,"  he 
said. 

"I  think  so,"  I  answered,  "  unless  he  has 
been  disturbed  since  I  left  by  yonder 
uproar." 


98  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"  Our  friends  are,  a  trifle  demonstrative. 
One  might  almost  imagine  they  had  caught 
a  Whig  and  were  making  merry  at  his 
expense." 

The  baronet  laughed,  and  there  was 
mockery  in  his  mirth.  How  chanced  he 
here  at  this  hour  ?  Was  it  chance  ?  These 
thoughts  came  into  my  mind  as  I  paused 
near  him.  He  had  planted  himself  where 
I  would  most  naturally  pass  on  my  way  to 
the  door,  and  I  must  step  aside  if  I  would 
avoid  him.  His  words,  his  whole  attitude, 
stirred  all  the  latent  antagonism  in  me. 

"  I  trust  our  friends,"  I  exclaimed,  pur 
posely  using  and  emphasizing  the  same 
terms  he  had  applied  to  the  savages,  "  will 
not  practice  their  devilish  cruelties  upon 
us  in  case  there  should  turn  out  to  be  a 
scarcity  of  Whigs." 

"Us?"  returned  the  baronet,  with  a 
peculiar  rising  inflection  that  carried  with 
it  both  insinuation  and  insult. 

Then  it  flashed  upon  me  that  this  man 
suspected  me.  Had  he  ground  for  more 
than  a  suspicion  ?  He  had  lately  been  in 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  99 

New  York.  He  had  heard,  perhaps,  that 
my  uncle  was  a  Whig,  and  knew  that  I  had 
lived  several  years  in  his  family.  Could  it 
be  that  he  knew  more  than  this? — that  a 
report  of  my  participation  in  the  affair  of 
the  tea  or  the  guns  had  reached  his  ears? 
It  seemed  most  unlikely.  My  intimacy 
with  Alexander  Hamilton,  who  had  already 
won  distinction  in  the  field,  and  had  for 
several  months  been  acting  as  the  aide-de 
camp  of  Washington,  must,  however,  have 
come  to  his  knowledge.  This,  I  decided, 
was  the  reason  for  the  manner  he  had 
adopted  toward  me.  He  doubtless  thought 
himself  safe  in  assuming  that  the  loyalty 
of  the  friend  of  so  fiery  a  patriot  as  Hamil 
ton  might  rightly  be  regarded  with  sus 
picion. 

As  these  thoughts  jostled  in  swift  eddy 
through  my  brain  he  fixed  his  penetrating 
gaze  upon  me  in  the  July  starlight.  If 
he  expected  that  I  would  flinch  he  was 
grievously  disappointed.  I  realized  that  I 
was  being  tested,  and  I  flatter  myself  that 
I  was  quite  as  self-contained  as  he.  I 


100  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

looked  him  fairly  in  the  eyes  as  I  replied. 

"Certainly,"  said  I.  "Why  not  us,  Sir 
John  Johnson?" 

This  was  a  challenge  direct,  yet  his 
answer  was  evasive. 

"Ah,  to  be  sure!"  he  replied.  "My 
remark  was  merely  a  pleasantry.  But  tell 
me,"  he  continued,  with  a  sudden  change 
of  front  "how  are  our  affairs  prospering  in 
the  valley?  I  haven't  as  yet  had  an  oppor 
tunity  of  speaking  in  private  with  your 
father,  and  strolled  down  at  this  late  hour 
in  the  hope  that  I  might  find  him  still 
visible." 

"My  father  is  far  from  strong,"  I  said, 
"and  the  stir  of  your  arrival  has  quite  ex 
hausted  him.  He  has  been  in  bed  an  hour 
or  more.  As  for  news  from  the  valley,  I 
must  confess  myself  but  a  poor  bearer  of 
tidings." 

I  was  in  no  wise  mollified  or  thrown  off 
my  guard  by  his  swift  veer  to  the  agree 
able,  and  determined,  if  I  could,  to  bring 
the  interview  to  a  close.  Had  I  considered 
my  own  interests  I  should  have  adopted  a 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  10l 

very  different  attitude  from  the  one  I  as 
sumed.  In  fact,  had  there  been  time  for 
second  thought  I  should  have  put  forth 
every  effort  to  produce  a  favorable  impres 
sion  upon  Sir  John.  He  was  second  in 
command,  and  it  behooved  me  to  stand  in 
his  good  graces  quite  as  much  as  in  those 
of  St.  Leger.  All  this,  however,  I  did  not 
at  the  moment  consider,  for  the  devil  of 
combativeness  within  me  was  aroused. 

The  baronet  appeared  to  take  no  notice 
of  my  last  declaration,  for  he  continued  to 
question  me. 

"What  is  your  opinion  of  the  prospect 
for  a  rising  in  Tryon  County  when  once 
Fort  Stanwix  has  fallen?"  said  he.  "Will 
the  Whigs  not  all  be  king's  men  then? 
Shall  we  meet  with  any  opposition,  think 

you?" 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  unfortu 
nate  than  my  reply,  though  I  gave  him 
offence  most  unwittingly.  Even  to  this 
day  I  can  see  nothing  in  my  words  at  which 
a  man  not  unduly  sensitive  should  have 
taken  umbrage. 


102  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"  Sir,"  I  said,  "you  who  have  spent 
most  of  your  life  in  the  county  can  cer 
tainly  judge  of  these  matters  better  than 
I.  Your  Tryon  neighbors,  I  fancy,  have 
not  changed  since  you  took  up  your  abode 
elsewhere." 

I  suppose  it  was  my  reference  to  his  flight 
into  Canada  that  fired  his  anger,  although 
I  have  since  heard  it  many  times  affirmed 
that  he  felt  perfectly  justified  in  the  course 
he  took,  and  regarded  what  some  called 
"  breaking  his  parole  "  to  be  no  stain  upon 
his  honor. 

I  saw  his  face  contract  and  his  arm  twitch, 
and  I  truly  believe  he  would  have  struck 
me  had  I  not  started  back  a  step.  He  broke 
out  with  an  awful  oath — and  he  had  plenty 
of  them  at  his  command. 

"If  it  weren't  for  your  father,  you 
damned,  white-livered  rebel  hound,"  he 
cried,  and  his  eyes  seemed  like  baleful  fires 
in  the  darkness,  "I'd  hand  you  over  to  my 
Missisaguas,  and  you'd  have  to  grow  a  new 
tongue  before  you  answered  me  again  like 
that." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  103 

I  began  stammering  something  about  not 
intending  to  affront  him,  when  he  turned 
on  his  heel  and  strode  off  into  the  night, 
leaving  me  with  the  consciousness  that  I 
had  made  a  bitter  enemy  of  one  who  might 
work  me  incalculable  harm. 


CHAPTER   VI 

The  Coming  of  St.  Leger 

AS  may  be  imagined,  my  sleep  was 
restless  and  broken,  for  through 
my  dreams  stalked  the  form  of 
the  baronet,  his  dark  face  grown  sinister. 
I  was  out  before  bugle-call  the  next  morn 
ing  feeling  perplexed  and  dull  of  brain,  but 
a  plunge  in  the  river  washed  away  part  of 
the  care-cobweb.  Then  I  climbed  to  the 
now  familiar  outlook  in  the  linden,  whence 
I  saw  the  day  grow  into  full  glory.  The 
ringing  rising-peal  came  up  to  me  from  the 
fort,  the  smoke  ascended  from  the  Indian 
encampment  on  the  farther  side  of  the 
harbor,  disheveled  forms  issued  from  the 
block-houses,  and  presently  there  was  a 
general  stir.  Canoes  began  to  shoot  to 
and  fro  across  the  placid  water,  there  was 
a  bustle  near  the  bateaux,  and  filled  with 
the  energetic  spirit  which  animated  the 
scene  I  returned  to  our  quarters  and  set 
about  getting  breakfast. 

104 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  105 

Later  there  were  maneuvers  to  watch 
both  within  and  without  the  fort,  and 
while  my  father  and  I  were  laughing  over 
the  blunders  of  the  " awkward  squad"  in 
one  of  the  companies  of  Johnson's  "  Greens," 
we  heard  some  one  hailing  us  from  the  crest 
of  the  slope  below  which  the  drill  was 
taking  place.  Looking  up  we  beheld 
Colonel  Glaus  gesticulating  to  us.  He  held 
something  in  his  hand  which  I  inferred  to 
be  a  letter. 

"A.  message  from  St.  Leger!"  he  shouted. 

Instantly  my  father  was  all  excitement. 
His  cheeks,  which  had  more  than  their 
wonted  flush  that  morning,  now  flamed, 
and  I  had  fairly  to  use  force  to  prevent 
him  from  rushing  up  the  slope,  so  eager 
was  he  to  learn  the  burden  of  the  message. 

"Your  friend,  our  commander,  is  at  Sal 
mon  Creek,  twenty  miles  distant,"  called 
the  colonel,  as  we  at  length  approached 
the  spot  where  he  stood. 

"He  will  reach  here  today  then!"  ex 
claimed  my  father. 

"No;  I  fear  not,  since  he  writes  asking 


106 

that  we  join  him  there  and  march  over 
land." 

"March  overland?" 

"Yes,  but  such  a  course  is  impracticable. 
I  have  consulted  Brant,  who  says  his  Indians 
will  not  go  to  Salmon  Creek.  I  am  just 
sending  word  to  St.  Leger  to  this  effect. 
He  will  undoubtedly  come  on  to-morrow." 

I  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  en 
deavoring  to  keep  my  father  quiet.  The 
tidings  of  the  morning  had  strung  his  nerves 
to  the  highest  pitch,  and  by  night  his  rest 
lessness  had  reduced  me  to  a  state  bordering 
on  exhaustion.  Rarely  still  for  more  than 
fifteen  minutes,  he  kept  me  moving  (for  I 
would  not  leave  his  side)  from  block-house 
to  fort,  from  fort  to  beach,  and  from  beach 
to  river-landing.  At  dusk-fall,  however,  I 
prevailed  upon  him  to  remain  within.  He 
would  not  listen  to  me  at  first,  but  when  I 
mentioned  the  possibility  of  his  becoming 
so  fatigued  that  he  would  not  have  his  full 
strength  on  the  morrow  he  yielded  to  my 
wishes,  though  not  without  making  light  of 
my  fears.  When  I  had  finally  seen  him 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  107 

safely  bestowed  in  bed,  sleeping  deeply 
under  the  influence  of  a  quieting  potion  I 
had  induced  him  to  swallow,  I  drew  a  long 
breath  of  relief,  and  went  out  into  the 
darkness  to  find  some  calm  for  my  own 
tensely  strung  nerves.  It  was  generally 
known  that  the  commander-in-chief,  with 
the  remainder  of  the  forces,  would  arrive 
on  the  following  day,  and  a  subdued  air  of 
expectancy  pervaded  the  whole  encamp 
ment. 

I  chanced  upon  Van  Eyck  near  the 
river-landing,  and  he  joined  me.  He  was 
in  high  feather,  and  his  rude  jocularity  had 
the  effect  of  brightening  my  dull  spirits. 
Since  the  episode  in  the  wilderness  I  had 
felt  a  strong  liking  for  the  eccentric  Dutch 
man,  which  had  doubtless  originated  in 
gratitude  for  his  timely  rescue  but  which 
had  grown  into  something  closer  and 
warmer.  His  manner  told  me  that  he  re 
turned  my  friendship,  and  when  I  again 
sought  the  block-house  it  was  with  the 
sense  that  I  had  at  least  one  true,  albeit 
rough,  adviser  to  lean  upon. 


108  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

My  father  was  awake  the  next  day  at 
early  bird-song,  and  I  heard  him  stirring 
about  soon  after  sunrise.  I  was  glad  to 
notice  the  absence  of  the  flush  in  his  face  as 
we  sat  over  our  breakfast  of  coffee,  bacon 
and  hardtack.  He  enjoyed  the  meal,  and 
remarked  that  he  had  not  felt  so  well  in 
weeks.  Toward  mid-morning  he  persuaded 
me  to  let  him  ascend  with  me  to  the  linden 
top.  Cleats  had  been  fastened  in  several 
places  upon  the  tree  trunk  to  make  the 
climb  easy,  and,  as  I  was  able  to  follow 
closely  and  assist  him,  it  seemed  wiser  to 
grant  his  whim  than  to  arouse  his  ill-humor 
by  opposing  it.  For  an  hour  or  more  we 
reclined  among  the  branches,  intent  upon 
the  undulating  shore-line ;  then  our  watch 
was  rewarded,  and  my  father  was  the  first  to 
detect  the  approaching  boats.  My  atten 
tion  had  wandered  from  the  water  for  a 
moment,  and  when,  at  his  cry,  I  turned  my 
eyes  again  to  the  lake,  I  saw  the  bateaux 
clearly.  They  had  evidently  kept  very 
near  the  shore  or  we  should  have  observed 
them  sooner.  Now  they  were  but  a  few 
miles  distant. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  109 

Presently  we  heard  faint  shouts  from  the 
beach  that  were  taken  up  again  at  the  fort, 
and  we  knew  that  others  had  descried  the 
coming  expedition.  We  remained  in  the 
linden  until  the  bateaux  were  a  little  more 
than  a  mile  away,  and  then  joined  the 
gathering  on  the  lake  shore.  The  troops 
were  drawn  up  under  arms  to  receive  their 
commander.  Sir  John  and  Colonel  Glaus 
were  pacing  up  and  down  in  earnest  con 
sultation  in  front  of  the  "Greens,"  who 
formed  the  center  of  the  array.  Brant  had 
massed  his  Indians  on  the  left  with  Butler's 
Rangers,  while  the  Chasseurs  occupied  a 
position  on  the  right.  Beyond  the  last 
named  troop,  on  a  slight  elevation,  my 
father  and  I  took  our  places. 

As  the  bateaux  drew  near,  Colonel  Claus 
caught  sight  of  us  and  bade  us  join  the 
baronet  and  himself,  an  invitation  which 
my  father  eagerly,  and  I  reluctantly,  ac 
cepted.  The  composure  of  my  father  sur 
prised  me.  He  evinced  no  sign  of  the 
emotion  which  I  knew  was  stirring  him, 
save  that  there  was  an  unwonted  bright- 


110  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

ness  about  his  eyes  and  a  spasmodic  twitch 
ing  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth. 

"There  is  St.  Leger,"  he  said  to  me  sud 
denly,  as  a  man  in  the  last  boat  rose  and 
surveyed  the  shore.  I  could  not  see  at 
that  distance  what  manner  of  man  he  was, 
save  that  he  seemed  not  above  middle 
height. 

As  the  bateaux  approached  the  beach  a 
cheer  rang  down  the  lines,  and  a  greeting 
salvo  was  fired.  The  boat  which  bore  the 
commander  shot  in  between  the  others, 
and  St.  Leger  was  the  first  to  land.  The 
baronet  and  Glaus  pressed  forward  to  meet 
him  as  he  set  foot  on  shore.  I  saw  that 
my  father  was  trembling,  and  knew  how 
strong  was  his  desire  to  run  and  clasp  the 
hand  of  his  old  comrade.  Just  then  St. 
Leger  turned  toward  us.  His  eyes  fell 
upon  my  father's  face,  and  an  expression 
of  doubt  and  amazement  that  changed  to 
one  of  pleasure  swept  across  his  counten 
ance. 

"Jack  Aubrey? — By  my  faith,  it  is!"  he 
cried,  and  strode  quickly  toward  us. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  111 

"Barry!"  I  heard  my  father  say,  and 
while  the  two  were  exchanging  greetings  I 
had  a  chance  to  observe  the  man  whose 
name  had  been  familiar  to  me  since  my 
earliest  recollection. 

He  was  of  medium  stature,  as  I  had  be 
fore  observed,  with  a  figure  too  corpulent 
to  be  graceful.  His  face  was  cleanly 
shaven,  and  had  evidently  once  been  hand 
some,  but  lines  of  dissipation  had  played 
havoc  with  his  good  looks.  His  eyes  espe 
cially  showed  his  weakness  for  the  bowl, 
and  while  his  manner  was  engaging,  it 
smacked  to  me  a  trifle  of  self-importance. 
I  own  that  I  was  disappointed  in  him. 

His  reception  of  me,  however,  was  most 
gracious. 

"  I  shall  like  you  first  for  your  father's 
sake,"  he  said,  "  and  later  I  know  I  shall 
for  your  own." 

As  I  thanked  him  for  his  cordiality  I 
caught,  over  his  shoulder,  the  eyes  of  Sir 
John  Johnson  upon  me,  and  the  look  in 
them  gave  me  food  for  much  thought. 

A  company  of  the  "Greens"  was  detailed 


112  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

to  escort  St.  Leger  to  his  quarters  within 
the  fort.  As  he  was  leaving  he  waved  his 
hand  to  my  father  and  called  out: 

"Till  tonight!" 

"He  has  changed,  Wilton,  sadly,"  said 
my  father  to  me,  as  we  wandered  toward 
our  rooms  in  the  block-house.  "It's  drink. 
That's  the  whole  cause.  You  can  see  it  in 
his  face." 

I  hardly  knew  what  reply  to  make,  and 
so  was  silent.  My  father  seemed  not  to 
notice  my  reticence,  for  presently  he  ex 
claimed  : 

"But  he's  the  same  at  heart,  the  same  at 
heart,  I'm  sure  of  it!"  This  thought  ap 
peared  to  cheer  him,  and  he  was  quite  gay 
over  our  midday  luncheon. 

I  assisted  my  father  in  making  such  sim 
ple  arrangements  as  were  possible  for  the 
entertainment  of  his  gue  st  that  evening.  We 
brightened  with  wild  flowers  and  fresh  green 
boughs  the  larger  of  the  two  rooms  in  which 
we  were  quartered.  We  sweetened  the  place 
with  the  strewn  needles  of  the  pine,  and  by 
fastening  blankets  on  the  rough  chairs 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  113 

Van  Eyck  had  fashioned  for  us  contrived 
comfortable  seats.  We  added  to  our  store 
of  pitch  knots,  and  got  out  the  one  candle 
that  still  remained.  Two  of  the  three  bot 
tles  of  old  Hollands  which  we  had  treas 
ured  were  also  produced,  and  a  pair  of 
small  silver  pocket  flasks  set  forth  in  lieu 
of  drinking  cups. 

1  had  just  induced  my  father  to  go  within 
to  escape  the  heavy  dewfall,  and  the  mist 
which  was  creeping  up  from  the  river,  when 
St.  Leger  arrived,  accompanied  by  two 
soldiers  whom  he  dismissed  at  the  door.  I 
tarried  but  a  few  moments,  and  then,  leav 
ing  the  old  comrades  together,  blanket  on 
arm  climbed  to  the  linden  top.  Here, 
where  all  the  boisterous  evening  noise  of 
the  encampment  was  but  a  murmur,  I  gave 
myself  up  to  thoughts  of  Margaret,  and 
dreams  that  somehow  all  would  turn  out 
well.  Ere  long  I  fell  asleep,  to  waken  with 
a  start  and  the  consciousness  that  some 
strange  sound  had  roused  me.  As  I  sat  up, 
an  owl  hooted  above  my  head,  and  flew 
blunderingly  away  toward  the  adjacent 


114  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

woods.  Though  by  no  means  superstitious, 
the  presence  of  this  bird  of  ill  omen  gave 
me  a  creepy  feeling,  and  I  descended  from 
the  tree  as  quickly  as  the  darkness  would 
permit.  When  I  reached  the  block-house 
St.  Leger  was  on  the  point  of  taking  his 
leave,  and  I  perceived  that  both  men  were 
somewhat  under  the  influence  of  the  strong 
Hollands. 

My  father  immediately  proposed  that  we 
accompany  the  commander  to  the  fort  en 
trance,  and  though  I  feared  the  night  air 
for  him  I  saw  that  opposition  to  his  wishes 
would  not  be  wise. 

"Well,  Wilton,"  said  St.  Leger  to  me 
familiarly  as  we  set  out,  "  I  have  everything 
arranged  for  you  and  for  my  old  friend, 
your  father." 

"He has  been  too  good,  too  generous!" 
my  father  broke  in. 

"Hold  your  tongue,  Jack!"  cried  the 
commander.  "You  always  would  interrupt 
me,  but  damme,  sir,  I  tell  you  flatly  I  won't 
have  it." 

"Your  father,  as  you  know,"  continued 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  115 

St.  Leger,  turning  again  to  me,  "was  for 
merly  an  officer  in  the  king's  service,  and 
was  forced  by  ill  health  to  give  up  his  com 
mission.  Now,  inasmuch  as  he  is  familiar 
with  army  tactics,  I  attach  him  to  my  staff 
as  one  of  my  aides.  I  feel  empowered  to 
do  this  as  I  have  full  command  of  the  ex 
pedition.  A  number  of  officers  with  me  do 
not  serve  under  me  regularly,  but  have  en 
listed,  or  have  been  especially  appointed 
for  this  campaign.  With  you,  a  civilian, 
the  case  is  different,  so  I  propose  to  employ 
you  as  my  secretary  to  relieve  Lieutanent 
Hamilton,  who  is  now  acting  in  that  capac 
ity.  Though  it  is  possible  that  I  may  call 
on  you  for  other  duties,  you  may,  if  you 
please,  consider  yourself  my  secretary. 
Your  father  tells  me  you  are  well  fitted  to 
fill  such  a  post." 

To  the  last  of  this  speech,  all  of  which 
was  delivered  in  the  grandiloquent  manner 
of  one  half  in  liquor,  I  replied  that  I  should 
endeavor  to  prove  myself  worthy  of  my 
father's  commendation.  I  also  thought  it 
fitting  that  I  should  express  my  gratitude, 


116          THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

but  he  cut  me  short  by  launching  into  an  ex 
position  of  his  plans  for  sweeping  down  the 
Mohawk,  seeming  to  take  it  for  granted  that 
the  garrison  at  Fort  Stanwix  would  speedily 
agree  to  such  terms  as  he  chose  to  offer. 
I  was  thankful  that  he  did  not  question  me 
on  this  point,  or  upon  the  probability  of 
armed  resistance  to  his  march  to  Albany, 
for  in  his  heated  condition  my  opinion,  had 
I  spoken  otherwise  than  most  guardedly, 
might  not  have  been  pleasantly  received. 

Having  bidden  the  commander  good-night 
at  the  fort  entrance,  I  drew  my  father's 
arm  through  mine  and  hurried  him  back  to 
the  blockhouse.  Not  since  my  mother's 
death  had  I  seen  him  in  such  high  spirits 
as  he  was  after  our  return.  This  was  in 
part  due  to  the  stimulant  he  had  taken,  in 
part  to  his  meeting  with  the  friend  of  his 
youth,  and  in  part  to  the  prospect  of  en 
gaging  in  what,  from  his  point  of  view, 
was  to  be  a  triumphant  campaign. 

I  noticed  that.the  excitement  of  the  even 
ing  had  made  him  feverish,  but  comforted 
myself  with  the  thought  that  his  condition 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  117 

would  pass  off  as  soon  as  he  fell  asleep. 
I  heard  him  tossing  and  muttering,  and  was 
considering  the  advisability  of  giving  him 
such  a  potion  as  I  had  administered  the 
night  previous,  when  he  grew  quiet,  and 
presently  I  heard  him  breathing  like  one  in 
slumber,  though  with  an  occasional  catch, 
as  though  there  were  some  obstruction  in 
his  throat.  Then  I  slipped  away  into  un 
consciousness. 

Toward  dawn  I  started  suddenly  upright. 
What  I  had  been  dreaming  I  never  could 
recall,  but  I  found  myself  in  a  cold  perspi 
ration,  as  though  my  visions  had  been  har 
rowing.  From  my  father's  room  came  a 
faint  spasmodic  gasping.  I  tossed  off  the 
blanket,  groped  for  the  tinder  box,  lit  the 
stub  of  our  last  candle,  and  sprang  to  the 
door  between  the  two  rooms.  A  cry  of 
terror  and  horror  escaped  my  lips.  Blood 
dabbled  the  blankets  of  my  father's  bed, 
a  little  red  stream  was  trickling  from  one 
side  of  his  mouth,  his  eyes  were  fixed  and 
protruding,  and  on  his  face  was  the  livid 
hue  that  accompanies  death  by  strangula 
tion. 


CHAPTER  VII 
With  the  Advance 

LATE  in  the  afternoon  of  the  26th 
of  July  my  father's  body  was  laid 
to  rest  under  the  shade  of  the 
great  linden  tree.  St.  Leger  read  the 
burial  service  from  the  church  prayer-book, 
and  a  military  salute  was  fired  in  honor  of 
the  dead.  My  father's  old  comrade  re 
mained  behind  with  me  after  the  others 
had  withdrawn,  and  then,  when  we  had 
stood  some  time  in  silence,  with  a  gentle 
ness  and  delicacy  of  which  I  had  not 
thought  him  possessed,  led  me  slowly  away. 

My  father's  death  seemed  to  touch  St. 
Leger  deeply,  and  his  consideration  for  me 
for  the  time  being  quite  won  my  heart. 
How  one  appreciates  a  little  kindness  at 
such  an  hour ! 

A  place  was  provided  for  me  within  the 
fort,  and  all  my  effects  brought  thither,  so 
that  I  did  not  again  return  to  the  scene  of 
the  previous  night's  agony  and  loss. 

118 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  119 

As  I  was  retiring  St.  Leger  came  to  my 
room. 

"I  know  this  spot  will  have  nothing  but 
bitter  memories  for  you,"  he  said,  "  and  it 
has  occurred  to  me  that  perhaps  you  would 
be  glad  to  turn  your  back  upon  it  at  the 
earliest  opportunity.  I  am  sure  it  would 
be  well  for  you  if  you  are  willing  to  do  so." 

Wondering  what  he  had  in  mind,  I 
answered  that  I  would  leave  that  very 
instant  were  such  a  thing  possible. 

"I  am  sending  Lieutenant  Bird  forward 
with  a  detachment  of  the  King's  Regiment 
and  a  number  of  Indians,  as  a  reconnoiter- 
ing  party,  on  the  morrow,"  St.  Leger  went 
on.  "You  have  already  been  over  the 
route  they  are  to  traverse,  and  might  be 
of  assistance  to  the  lieutenant.  What  say 
you,  will  you  go?" 

"  How  can  I  thank  you  for  giving  me  the 
chance  ?"  I  cried. 

"Don't  think  of  that,"  said  he.  "I  am 
serving  myself  as  well  as  you.  One  of 
your  former  companions  shall  accompany 
you;  then  if  Lieutenant  Bird  wishes  to 


120  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

communicate  with  me  there  will  be  trust 
worthy  messengers.  Whom  do  you  prefer? ' ' 

"A  Dutchman  named  Van  Eyck,  who  is 
in  Captain  McDonald's  company  of  the 
'  Greens.'  He  knows  the  country  as  a  priest 
his  breviary." 

"Good!  He  shall  be  seen  at  once.  The 
expedition  will  start  at  seven;"  and  with 
a  warm  pressure  of  the  hand  he  left  me. 

Action — something  that  would  take  me 
out  of  myself,  would  cause  me  to  forget  a 
little  my  troubles  and  sorrows —  this  was 
what  I  longed  for,  and  this  providentially 
had  been  offered  me.  So  resolutely  had  I 
banished  from  my  mind  the  possibility  of 
serving  the  patriot  cause,  it  did  not  occur 
to  me  that  night,  nor  indeed  until  some 
time  afterward,  that  there  was  now  no 
sacred  duty  that  bound  me  to  the  side  of 
the  king. 

When  I  strode  down  to  the  river-landing 
the  next  morning,  after  a  mournful  revery 
at  my  father's  grave,  I  found  thirty  soldiers 
and  twice  as  many  Indians  in  readiness  to 
embark.  St.  Leger  and  Sir  John  Johnson 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  121 

were  superintending  in  person  the  de 
parture  of  the  force.  One  bateau  and 
several  small  boats  had  been  assigned  to 
the  troops,  while  the  Indians  were  to  fol 
low  in  their  canoes.  Lieutenant  Bird,  who 
had  command  of  the  expedition,  proved  to 
be  an  agreeable,  wide-awake  young  officer, 
but  little  older  than  myself,  for  whom  I  at 
once  conceived  a  liking.  The  lieutenant, 
Van  Eyck,  and  myself  were  to  lead  in  one 
of  the  small  boats,  and  we  got  under  way 
with  military  promptness. 

St.  Leger  evinced  at  parting  the  same 
kindness  he  had  shown  me  on  the  previous 
day,  and  assured  me  that  when  I  rejoined 
the  main  force  the  position  he  had  promised 
me  should  be  mine. 

Van  Eyck  was  our  pilot  and  guide,  and 
took  a  very  manifest  pride  in  fulfilling  the 
duties  of  his  position.  Lieutenant  Bird 
speedily  became  interested  in  his  eccentri 
cities,  and  drew  him  into  an  animated  con 
versation,  so  that  most  of  the  morning  I 
was  left  to  my  own  sad  thoughts,  though 
occasionally  the  warm-hearted  Dutchman 


122  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

would  endeavor  to  divert  and  cheer  me. 
During  our  passage  of  the  rifts  near 
Battle  Island  the  Indians  were  tractible 
enough,  but  directly  after  we  had  accom 
plished  the  tiresome  portage  at  Oswego 
Falls  they  began  to  be  troublesome.  A 
number  of  the  chiefs  wished  to  encamp 
for  the  night,  although  there  were  several 
hours  of  daylight  left,  and  it  required  a 
vast  amount  of  persuasion  to  prevail  upon 
them  to  move  forward.  This  was  the  first 
of  many  trying  experiences  with  our  savage 
allies.  On  the  following  morning  all  efforts 
to  hasten  them  were  vain,  and  we  pushed 
on  as  far  as  Three  Rivers  unattended. 
When,  after  much  delay, they  finally  joined 
us,  we  discovered  the  reason  for  their  dila- 
toriness.  While  we  had  been  in  camp 
several  braves,  under  the  cover  of  darkness, 
had  returned  toward  Oswego,  and,  meeting 
a  commissary  division  that  had  been  sent 
forward  to  the  lower  landing  at  the  Oswego 
Falls  portage,  had  stolen  six  quarters  of 
beef  from  the  army  stores.  Now  feast 
they  would,  in  spite  of  all  Lieutenant  Bird 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  123 

could  say.  A  party  of  Senecas  appeared 
at  this  juncture,  and  they  proved  as  obdu 
rate  as  the  Missisaguas,  so  we  left  them  to 
gorge  themselves,  and  turned  up  the  Oneida 
Kiver  toward  Oneida  Lake. 

Van  Eyck  had  worked  himself  into  a  vio 
lent  passion  over  the  behavior  of  the  sav 
ages,  and  sputtered  and  stormed  in  Dutch, 
much  to  the  lieutenant's  amusement,  though 
the  latter  was  no  less  angry  at  their  obsti 
nacy.  We  followed  the  weary  windings 
of  the  river  until  toward  sunset,  and  paused 
for  the  night  upon  a  grassy  plot  of  ground 
beneath  some  large  willows  where  we  found 
the  ashes  of  former  camp-fires  that  told  us 
the  site  was  a  favorite  resting-place  for  the 
voyageur.  At  six  the  next  morning  we 
were  in  readiness  to  proceed,  and  as  no 
Indians  had  appeared  we  continued  on  our 
way  unescorted.  By  ten  o'clock  the  heat 
had  grown  intense.  Not  a  breath  of  air 
moved,  a  burning  haze  hung  over  the  water, 
and  the  men  had  to  change  oars  frequently 
to  avoid  sunstroke.  Nor  was  there  shade 
to  afford  temporary  relief.  The  river-banks 


124  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

were  low,  and  wooded  near  the  stream  only 
with  willow  and  elder  thickets. 

I  was  sitting  at  the  stern  of  the  boat, 
talking  with  Van  Eyck,  shading  my  face 
from  the  sun  with  a  large  lily-pad  I  had 
plucked  from  the  water,  when  my  com 
panion  suddenly  gripped  my  arm. 

"Look!"  he  said,  in  a  half  whisper,  "but 
don't  turn  your  head — there  to  the  right 
where  there's  an  opening  in  the  thicket. 
Don't  you  see  that  tall  grass  move  ?  There 's 
a  redskin  hidden  in  it.  I  saw  his  scalp-lock 
a  second  ago." 

I  did  as  he  bade  me,  and  presently,  just 
before  we  drew  abreast  of  the  spot,  I  beheld 
the  face  of  an  Indian  cautiously  raised 
above  the  grass.  The  eyes  of  all  who 
were  not  at  the  oars  were  fixed  upon  a 
bend  in  the  river  which  we  were  approach 
ing.  We  were  in  mid-stream,  yet  by  Van 
Eyck  and  myself  the  Indian's  features  we  re 
readily  distinguished. 

"I  know  that  fellow,"  the  Dutchman 
said;  "he's  an  Oneida  half-breed  named 
Spencer,  a  Whig  spy  I'll  wager  a  crown." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  125 

With  that  he  caught  up  a  musket  that 
was  resting  against  the  seat  in  front  of  us, 
jerked  it  to  his  shoulder,  and  fired.  The 
movement  was  one  of  incredible  rapidity, 
yet  the  concealed  redskin  was  quicker,  for 
just  before  Van  Eyck  pulled  the  trigger 
there  was  a  wavering  of  the  long  grass  and 
a  bending  of  the  adjacent  bushes. 

"I  gave  him  a  scare,  anyhow,"  laughed 
my  companion. 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken  when  a  tongue 
of  flame  leaped  from  the  thicket  not  ten  feet 
from  the  spot  where  we  had  seen  the  savage, 
and  the  man  just  in  front  of  us  dropped  his 
oar  with  a  cry  of  pain.  He  had  been  shot 
through  the  forearm. 

"That  bullet  was  meant  for  me,"  said 
Van  Eyck  coolly,  proceeding  to  reload. 

Several  soldiers  seized  their  guns  and 
poured  a  volley  into  the  thicket,  and 
Lieutenant  Bird  turned  to  Van  Eyck  who 
had  now  risen  as  though  waiting  for  him  to 
give  orders.  The  Dutchman  was  sharply 
scanning  the  trend  of  the  shore-line. 

"The    redskin's  on   an  island!"  he  ex- 


126  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

claimed,  after  an  instant's  scrutiny;  "pull 
your  strongest,  men,  and  we  may  catch 
him.  There's  no  danger  from  his  gun,  for 
he's  taken  to  his  heels." 

Lieutenant  Bird  shouted  to  the  sergeant 
in  the  adjoining  boat,  bidding  him  watch 
the  main  channel,  while  our  oarsmen  for 
the  first  time  that  morning  sent  our  craft 
swiftly  through  the  water.  Rounding  a 
marshy  point,  we  swept  into  a  stagnant 
arm  of  the  stream,  half  choked  by  lily-pads. 

"  Faster,  men,  faster,"  cried  Van  Eyck, 
his  bronzed  face  aglow  with  excitement. 

The  rowers  bent  to  their  work,  the  per 
spiration  streaming  in  great  drops  from 
their  foreheads,  the  sound  of  their  labored 
breathing  indicating  how  strenuously  they 
were  exerting  themselves;  and  yet  for  all 
their  exertion  our  progress  was  slow  as 
the  pads  and  eel-grass  impeded  us,  growing 
thicker  and  thicker  with  every  stroke. 

"There  he  is!"  cried  the  man  at  the 
bow,  as  we  shot  around  a  projection  in  the 
island  shore.  And  sure  enough  there  the 
Indian  was  within  fifteen  feet  of  the  bank 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  127 

of  the  mainland,  holding  his  gun  above  his 
head  as  he  swam.  He  cast  a  backward 
look,  saw  us,  and  realized  his  danger  just  in 
time,  for  as  he  sank  beneath  the  water  Van 
Eyck's  bullet  threw  up  a  shower  of  spray 
a  few  inches  beyond  the  spot  where  he  had 
disappeared.  We  watched  for  his  re-ap 
pearance  in  vain. 

"He's  caught  in  the  eel-grass  and  will 
drown ! "  I  cried. 

"No  such  good  luck,  I  fear,"  laughed 
Van  Eyck.  "There's  but  little  grass  over 
yonder  where  he  dove,  and  as  he  can  swim 
like  a  duck  he's  probably  now  safe  in  hid 
ing  under  the  bank  somewhere." 

"Shall  we  land  and  root  the  rascal  out?" 
demanded  Lieutenant  Bird  who  had  his 
mettle  up,  and  was  loath  to  relinquish  the 
chase. 

"It's  no  use,  lieutenant,"  responded  the 
Dutchman.  "  Ten  to  one  he's  given  us  the 
slip  already.  We  may  as  well  cry  quits." 

This  episode  was  the  first  occurrence 
after  our  departure  from  Oswego  that 
really  roused  me  from  my  apathy,  and 


128  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

when  we  had  regained  the  river  proper  I 
found  myself  cherishing  a  feeling  of  relief, 
nay,  even  one  of  pleasure,  that  the  Oneida 
had  escaped.  I  was  sorry  for  the  wounded 
soldier,  however,  and  there  being  no  one  in 
the  boat  who  could  more  skilfully  care  for 
him,  I  did  what  I  could  to  make  his  wound 
comfortable. 

So  oppressive  had  the  heat  now  become 
that  when  we  discovered  an  inlet  half  gir 
dled  by  a  group  of  willows  we  pulled  into 
it,  although  it  was  not  without  some  mis 
givings  that  we  did  so,  and  finding  no 
traces  of  the  presence  of  an  enemy  rested 
here  until  the  afternoon  had  well  worn 
away.  We  were  now  quite  near  Fort 
Brewerton,  but  having  consulted  with  Van 
Eyck  and  myself,  Lieutenant  Bird  deter 
mined  not  to  pause  there.  Accordingly 
we  pushed  on  as  far  as  Nine  Mile  Point 
which  offered  a  desirable  camping  ground. 
Here,  before  we  re-embarked  on  the  fol 
lowing  morning,  a  part  of  the  Indians 
overtook  us,  and  accompanied  us  to  the 
mouth  of  Wood  Creek.  But  it  was  not 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  129 

until  the  dawn  of  another  day,  the  first 
of  August,  that  all  of  our  troublesome 
allies  appeared. 

That  night  Lieutenant  Bird  called  a 
council  of  the  chiefs  at  which  Van  Eyck 
and  I  were  invited  to  be  present. 

"Brothers,"  the  lieutenant  said,  to  the 
assembled  sachems,  "  the  White  Chief  has 
bidden  me  hasten  to  advance  upon  Fort 
Stanwix.  In  order  that  the  fort  may  be 
fully  surrounded,  and  our  enemies  receive 
no  aid  from  without  after  our  arrival,  it  is 
my  wish  that  we  march  forward  together. 
We  have  already  delayed  too  long.  We 
have  loitered  by  the  way,  but  now  we  must 
be  swift  to  move.  You  have  not  forgotten 
the  promises  the  Great  Father  beyond  the 
sea  has  made  to  you.  These  promises  will 
be  kept,  but  the  Great  Father  and  the 
White  Chief  who  commands  us  all  expect 
that  you  will  keep  your  promises  as  well." 

This  speech  was  received  by  most  of  the 
savages  with  nods  and  grunts  of  approval, 
and  a  number  of  them  signified  their  will 
ingness  to  accompany  the  lieutenant  and 
his  men  on  the  morrow. 


130  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Finally  a  fierce  and  quarrelsome  old 
Seneca,  who  went  by  the  name  of  Commo 
dore  Bradley,  rose  deliberately,  and  said  in 
the  deepest  gutteral : 

"Brothers;  the  young  White  Chief 
agreed,  when  we  left  Oswego,  to  give  ear 
to  our  advice.  It  is  not  bravery  but  the 
deed  of  one  lacking  wisdom  to  march  out 
from  a  secure  shelter  into  an  open  space, 
and  up  to  the  mouth  of  great  guns.  It  is 
the  act  of  a  fool.  Moreover  night  is  the 
time  for  the  trail.  No  enemy  can  aim  true 
in  the  dark." 

"The  ugly  old  idiot!"  exclaimed  Van 
Eyck, in  an  undertone.  "Does  he  think 
we  want  him  to  storm  Fort  Stanwix  in 
broad  daylight?" 

The  words  of  the  Seneca  produced  a 
marked  impression  on  the  other  chiefs,  and 
it  required  much  explanation  before  the 
lieutenant  could  satisfy  them  that  he  wished 
to  proceed  only  as  far  as  the  edge  of  the 
wood  that  surrounded  the  fort.  At  last, 
however,  most  of  them  agreed  that  they 
would  co-operate  with  the  troops  and  march 
at  dawn. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  131 

As  I  lay  upon  my  army  blanket,  with  no 
roof  above  me  save  the  rustling  forest 
leaves,  for  the  first  time  it  came  to  me  that 
my  position  was  different  from  what  it  had 
been  when  my  father  was  living.  That 
this  had  not  occurred  to  me  before  may 
appear  strange,  but  looking  back  to  this 
period  now,  after  the  lapse  of  many  years, 
I  realize  that  the  shock  of  my  father's  death 
must  have  dulled  and  blurred  my  power  of 
thought. 

Who  was  left  for  me  to  consider  save 
myself  and  Margaret  ?  This  was  the  ques 
tion  I  asked  myself  in  the  quiet  watches 
of  the  night.  St.  Leger?  He  had  indeed 
been  kind  to  me,  but  was  it  not  solely  for 
my  father's  sake?  How  long  would  his 
present  attitude  continue?  Had  not  Sir 
John  Johnson,  in  my  absence,  already  pre 
judiced  him  against  me?  If  the  baronet 
had  not  yet  done  so  would  he  not  seize 
upon  the  first  opportunity,  and  then,  with 
St.  Leger 's  favor  withdrawn,  what  had  I  to 
hope  for?  Clearly  my  only  chance  of  per 
fect  security  lay  in  escaping  into  the  Con- 


132  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

tinental  lines — in  joining  the  cause  with 
which  my  heart  had  been  from  the  outset. 
But  how  was  my  escape  to  be  effected? 
The  solution  to  this  query  baffled  me,  and 
I  lay  long  pondering  upon  the  matter,  gaz 
ing  with  wide  open  eyes  at  the  sparkling 
points  of  light  visible  through  the  rifts  in 
the  swaying  branches;  but  the  stars  gave 
me  no  inspiration.  On  all  other  subjects  I 
should  have  consulted  Van  Eyck  unhesi 
tatingly,  and  no  doubt  profited  by  his 
rough  but  shrewd  advice.  To  approach 
him  concerning  what  I  had  in  mind  would, 
however,  as  I  well  realized,  be  the  sheerest 
folly,  for  he  had  the  reputation  of  being 
one  of  the  stanchest  Tories  in  the  Mohawk 
Valley. 

It  would  perhaps  have  been  madness  to 
risk  finding  my  way  overland  to  Fort  Stan- 
wix  by  paths  wholly  unknown,  yet  with  a 
willing  companion  how  gladly  would  I  have 
made  the  attempt! 

The  night  wore  on.  I  heard  the  mur 
mur  of  the  sentries'  voices  as  they  relieved 
one  another,  and  at  last  fell  into  a  light 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  133 

slumber  from  which  I  was  frequently  roused 
by  the  stir  of  some  one  of  the  soldiers 
about  me.  At  dawn  the  Indians  again 
failed  us.  Commodore  Bradley,  had,  for 
some  reason,  played  upon  their  fears,  and 
not  more  than  half  a  dozen  were  willing  to 
accompany  the  troops.  Van  Eyck  swore 
fiercely,  but  previous  experience  had  turned 
Lieutenant  Bird  into  something  of  a  stoic, 
and  he  bore  his  crowning  disappointment 
admirably. 

"  I  must  send  word  to  Colonel  St.  Leger," 
he  said.  "I  fear  I  should  have  done  so 
before.  Brant  and  Glaus  and  Sir  John  are 
the  only  ones  who  can  manage  these  cursed 
savages.  Aubrey,  I  shall  have  to  ask  you 
and  Van  Eyck  to  carry  my  message  for 
me." 

I  went  with  Van  Eyck  to  the  creek 
and  selected  a  canoe.  Presently  the  lieu 
tenant  joined  us,  and  gave  his  hastily  writ 
ten  missive  into  my  keeping. 

"We  shall  make  for  Nine  Mile  Point," 
said  Van  Eyck,  taking  up  the  paddle. 
"The  army  should  have  reached  there  by 
this  time." 


134  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

He  gave  the  light  craft  a  vigorous  shove 
from  the  bank,  dipped  the  blade  deep,  and 
we  went  swiftly  skimming  down  the  stream 
toward  the  lake. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Fort  is  Encompassed 

I  HAD  become  familiar  with  canoeing 
during  my  residence  at  the  Flatts, 
but  never  before  had  I  seen  such  a 
display  of  skill  as  was  shown  by  Van  Eyck 
that  morning.  A  light  wind  out  of  the 
west  had  wakened  the  water  from  its  night 
tranquility,  and  it  was  dancing  in  tiny 
golden  waves  to  the  soft  music  of  the  aerial 
minstrel.  Over  these  waves  sped  our  little 
boat  like  a  winged  thing.  We  crossed  a 
wide  bay,  and  then, — a  panorama  of  varied 
greens, — the  shores  slid  by  until  at  length, 
as  we  approached  the  Nine  Mile  Point,  the 
sunlight  glinted  on  something  white. 

"They  are  there,"  I  said,  "I  can  see 
their  tents." 

"Umph!"  growled  my  companion,  "they 
are  halting  long  enough  to  put  the  tents 
out,  are  they?" 

"Only  for  a  few  of  the  officers,  I  pre- 
135 


136  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

sume,"  I  answered,  and  this  we  soon  dis 
covered  to  be  the  case. 

Several  soldiers  and  Indians  came  run 
ning  to  the  beach  to  greet  us. 

"Take  me  to  the  colonel,"  said  I  to  a 
sergeant  whose  uniform  I  recognized  as 
that  worn  by  the  men  of  St.  Leger's 
regiment. 

The  commander  was  just  rising,  and 
came  to  the  door  of  his  tent  half  dressed. 
He  treated  me  a  trifle  brusquely,  as  though 
he  was  vexed  at  being  disturbed  before  he 
had  made  his  toilet.  I  noticed  that  his 
hand  shook  when  he  took  Lieutenant  Bird's 
letter,  and  his  eyes  were  bloodshot  as  though 
he  had  been  free  with  his  liquor  the  night 
before.  He  cursed  roundly  when  he  had 
scanned  the  written  page,  and  told  the  ser 
geant  to  send  Captain  Brant  to  him  at  once. 

"And,  sergeant,"  he  called  after  the  sol 
dier,  who  had  turned  to  go,  "give  Mr.  Au 
brey  and  the  man  who  came  with  him  some 
breakfast.  Most  of  the  officers  have  break 
fasted,"  he  said  in  explanation  to  me,  "and 
Sir  John  and  I  are  to  discuss  plans  over  our 
coffee." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  137 

It  mattered  little  to  me  how,  or  with 
whom,  I  ate,  so  long  as  there  was  some  sort 
of  a  meal  forthcoming.  I  had  had  oppor 
tunity  for  only  a  hasty  bite  at  Wood  Creek, 
and  the  canoe  ride  in  the  fresh  morning  air 
had  made  me  ravenously  hungry.  While 
Van  Eyck  and  I  were  devouring  what  the 
sergeant  provided,  an  orderly  appeared  and 
handed  my  companion  a  letter. 

"  You  are  to  bear  this  to  Lieutenant  Bird 
as  soon  as  possible,"  he  said,  and  then,  ad 
dressing  me,  "The  colonel  desires  you  to 
remain,  Mr.  Aubrey." 

I  would  much  have  preferred  to  accom 
pany  Van  Eyck,  for  I  had  not  been  greatly 
pleased  with  the  reception  given  me  by  St. 
Leger.  There  was,  however,  no  other  way 
but  to  accede  to  his  wishes  which  I  did 
without  demur.  I  saw  my  companion  de 
part,  and  presently  witnessed  the  embark 
ation  of  a  large  number  of  Indians  under 
Brant's  command. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  before  I  again  had 
word  with  St.  Leger.  I  was  talking  with 
Colonel  Glaus  when  he  observed  me. 


138  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"Ah!  Aubrey,"  he  said,  "I  wondered 
where  you  were.  We  shall  all  be  moving 
within  an  hour.  If  you  had  been  on  hand 
last  night  I  should  have  let  you  try  your 
skill  at  your  new  duties.  Come  with  me, 
and  you  shall  see  the  proclamation  Lieu 
tenant  Hamilton  has  drawn  up  under  my 
direction." 

I  followed  him  to  his  tent,  which  two  sol 
diers  were  engaged  in  taking  down. 

"This,"  he  said,  taking  a  paper  from  a 
leather  case,  "will,  I  flatter  myself,  bring 
the  garrison  at  Fort  Stanwix  to  terms." 

I  ran  my  eye  down  the  long,  closely  writ 
ten  sheet  in  which  the  uprising  of  the  col 
onies  was  characterized  as  an  "unnatural 
rebellion,"  and  those  engaged  in  it  were 
accused  of  "  persecution  and  torture  unprec 
edented  in  the  inquisitions  of  the  Romish 
Church."  It  was  St.  Leger's  intention,  so 
the  manifesto  stated,  to  "  hold  forth  security, 
not  depredation,  to  the  country."  In  case, 
however,"  the  frenzy  of  hostility"  remained, 
it  was  his  declared  purpose  to  execute  "  the 
vengeance  of  the  state  against  the  wilful 
outcasts." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  139 

Though  his  manner  toward  me  was  now 
kindly,  my  estimate  of  the  man  was  vastly 
lessened  after  reading  the  pompous  procla 
mation.  The  statement  that  he  intended 
to  "hold  forth  security,  not  depredation,  to 
the  country,"  with  Brant  and  his  savage 
horde  as  allies,  struck  me  as  being  a  sublime 
travesty  on  fact. 

Could  I,  at  St.  Leger's  dictation,  pen 
such  a  document?  I  doubted  my  patience 
and  composure  were  I  put  to  so  trying  a 
test. 

"I  fear  I  shall  prove  but  a  poor  substitute 
for  your  present  secretary,"  I  said.  "I 
could  never,  save  with  your  assistance,  pro 
duce  so  telling  a  manifesto  as  this." 

"My  assistance  you  shall  have,"  he  re 
plied,  evidently  pleased  at  the  implied  com 
pliment  to  his  powers  of  expression. 

I  was  honored  with  a  place  in  the  bateau 
with  St.  Leger,  Sir  John  Johnson,  and 
Colonel  Claus.  The  baronet  rarely  ad 
dressed  me,  yet  there  was  nothing  in  his 
treatment  of  me,  nor  had  there  been  since 
my  father's  death,  to  indicate  that  he  cher- 


140  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

ished  any  resentment  toward  me,  or  that  he 
deemed  me  an  object  of  suspicion.  I  knew 
the  nature  of  the  man  too  well,  however,  to 
be  lulled  by  his  unruffled  exterior  into  a 
feeling  of  false  security. 

We  reached  the  mouth  of  Wood  Creek 
by  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  Lieuten 
ant  Bird  and  his  troop,  together  with  the 
Indians  under  Brant,  had  gone  on  ahead  to 
invest  the  fort  that  evening.  It  was  de 
cided  that  the  main  force  should  hasten 
forward  as  soon  as  practicable,  so  that  a 
grand  display  might  be  made  before  the 
fortifications  the  next  morning.  Since  we 
had  traversed  its  tortuous  channel  a  force 
from  Fort  Stanwix  had  rendered  Wood 
Creek  impassible,  so  that  the  engineers  had 
a  work  of  no  mean  magnitude  to  accom 
plish  before  the  artillery  could  be  trans 
ported.  Obstructions  must  be  cleared 
away  and  a  temporary  road  cut,  but  it 
seemed  best  to  delay  these  operations  until 
after  the  army  was  permanently  encamped. 

Wearisome  indeed  was  that  night's  march. 
Stumbling  over  roots  and  into  bog  holes, 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  141 

tripping  in  the  tough  wire-grass,  footsore, 
lame,  we  at  last  threw  ourselves  down 
wherever  the  ground  was  firm,  near  the 
Wood  Creek  extremity  of  the  carrying- 
place. 

Every  one  was  glad  to  be  stirring  at 
dawn.  There  was  no  grumbling  at  the  cold 
breakfast,  so  excited  were  all  over  the  pros 
pect  of  encompassing  the  enemy.  It  was  a 
perfect  Sabbath  morning,  cloudless  and 
cool.  Did  it  seem  to  any  one,  I  wondered, 
that  it  was  God's  work  we  were  bent  upon? 

As  early  as  practicable  the  line  of  march 
was  formed.  The  regulars  donned  for  the 
occasion  their  bright  new  uniforms,  which 
had  not  been  taken  from  the  packs  since 
they  left  Buck  Island.  Five  Indian  columns 
constituted  the  advance,  then  came  a  detach 
ment  of  the  "Greens,"  next  the  main  body 
of  the  army,  with  Indians  on  both  flanks,  and 
finally  the  rear-guard,  which  was  made  up 
of  the  "Greens"  and  the  Rangers. 

The  command  "Forward!"  was  passed 
along  the  line.  The  flags  were  unfurled, 
the  bugles  sounded,  the  drums  struck  up, 


142  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

and  amid  wild  shouts  from  the  Indians  we 
moved  toward  the  fort,  following  the  route 
of  the  carrying-place. 

As  a  mark  of  special  favor  I  was  assigned 
by  St.  Leger  a  position  beside  Lieutenant 
Hamilton  who  appeared  to  resent  my 
presence,  and  treated  me  with  the  superior 
supercilious  air  adopted  by  some  army  men 
toward  civilians.  It  occurred  to  me  that 
possibly  he  might  be  disturbed  because 
St.  Leger  had  made  me  his  secretary,  so  I 
remarked  that  the  position  was  not  one  of 
my  own  seeking,  and  that  I  had  no  wish 
whatever  to  supplant  him.  "Without  con 
descending  so  much  as  to  glance  at  me  he 
made  me  so  rude  a  reply  that  I  regretted 
my  effort  to  be  friendly,  and  was  thereafter 
wholly  silent. 

As  we  emerged  into  the  cleared  space  on 
the  west  of  the  fort  we  saw  that  the  whole 
garrison  had  assembled  on  the  ramparts  to 
view  our  approach. 

"A  brave  set  they  look!"  cried  Lieuten 
ant  Hamilton,  with  a  sneer,  and  indeed  the 
Continentals  did  appear  a  tatterdemalion 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  143 

crew,  some  in  rusty  regimentals,  some  in 
the  buckskin  garb  of  frontiersmen,  some  in 
ragged  citizens  apparel.  They  seemed  to 
be  gazing  as  us  with  an  air  of  stupification 
and  wonder,  but  I  learned  later  that  they 
were  merely  intent  upon  counting  our 
numbers. 

An  emissary  bearing  a  flag  of  truce  and 
a  copy  of  St.  Leger's  proclamation  was  at 
once  dispatched  to  the  fort.  No  reply 
whatever  being  vouchsafed,  active  prepara 
tions  for  a  siege  were  immediately  begun. 
St.  Leger  selected  the  Wood  Creek  extremity 
of  the  carrying-place  as  his  supply  station, 
and  placed  over  it  a  company  of  the  King's 
Regiment  as  guard.  On  a  ridge  to  the 
north-east  of  the  fort  he  established  his 
own  headquarters,  and,  near  by,  men  were 
ordered  to  throw  up  earthworks  so  that 
everything  should  be  in  readiness  to  mount 
the  guns  as  soon  as  they  arrived.  Sir  John 
Johnson  and  his  command  encamped  just 
below  the  boat-landing  on  the  Mohawk, 
while  the  Indians  were  stationed  at  inter 
vals  in  the  woods,  thus  making  the  invest 
ment  complete. 


144  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

During  the  day  St.  Leger  employed  me 
not  only  as  his  secretary,  but  also  as  his 
dispatch  bearer,  and  I  thus  became  f  amiliar 
with  the  ground  surrounding  the  fort.  The 
first  shades  of  twilight  had  fallen,  and  I  had 
cast  myself  upon  the  grass  on  the  brow  of 
the  slope  where  our  camp  was  pitched,  and 
was  gazing  longingly  at  the  fortification 
not  far  distant,  wishing  I  were  within  its 
walls,  when  I  heard  footsteps  behind  me. 
Glancing  up,  I  saw  St.  Leger  close  at  hand. 

"Aubrey,"  said  he,  "I  want  you  to  go  to 
Sir  John's  camp  and  tell  the  baronet  to  post 
some  of  the  savages  beyond  the  river.  A 
reinforcement  with  provisions  arrived  last 
evening  just  before  Lieutenant  Bird  reached 
the  scene,  and  I  desire  to  take  every  pre 
caution  to  prevent  further  aid  from  enter 
ing  the  fort.  Sir  John  may  have  issued 
orders  to  the  Indians  already,  but  I  wish 
to  make  sure." 

Bidding  me  hasten,  the  colonel  turned  and 
left  me.  Here  was  the  very  opportunity  I 
had  longed  for,  and  my  heart  beat  fast  at 
the  thought.  As  I  lay  looking  at  the  fort 


THE  SON  OP  A  TORY  145 

it  had  occurred  to  me  that  could  I  steal 
from  camp  unobserved  and  descend  the 
slope  I  might  possibly  cross  the  low,  marshy 
ground  intervening,  under  cover  of  the 
reeds  and  elders  and  swamp-rose  bushes, 
get  within  hailing  distance  of  the  sally-port, 
make  myself  known  as  a  friend,  and  thus 
gain  the  shelter  and  safety  I  desired.  There 
was  danger,  in  the  dim  light,  of  being  mis 
taken  for  a  lurking  Indian,  and  being  fired 
upon  by  one  of  the  sentinels,  but  this  risk 
I  was  willing  to  run. 

The  commission  which  I  had  just  received 
from  the  commander  gave  me  ample  excuse 
for  the  move  I  was  about  to  make  should  I 
be  observed  by  anyone  within  the  British 
lines,  so  I  rose  without  hesitation,  slipped 
down  the  declivity,  and  entered  the  tangle 
below.  The  route  I  was  taking  was  the 
most  direct  one  to  the  baronet's  camp, 
though  by  no  means  the  easiest.  Com 
monly  a  detour  was  made  to  the  west  of 
the  fort,  an  open  path  on  high  ground. 

A  small  stream  which  had  its  source  in 
some  springs  to  the  east  of  our  camp  ran 


146  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

close  to  the  base  of  the  ridge.  Crossing 
this  I  followed  its  general  trend,  since  be 
fore  emptying  into  the  river  it  passed  within 
a  few  rods  of  the  sally-port.  I  picked  my 
way  without  much  difficulty  over  the  an- 
even  ground,  for  the  weather  had  been  dry 
and  only  the  deepest  bog  holes  contained 
water.  Coming  at  length  to  an  opening 
in  the  thicket,  I  was  forced  to  crawl  on 
hands  and  knees  to  gain  another  cover 
where  I  might  proceed  in  a  crouching  pos 
ture.  I  was  now  within  range  of  the  fort, 
and,  in  spite  of  the  uncertain  light,  thought 
it  wise  to  exercise  the  greatest  caution.  I 
was  congratulating  myself  on  the  progress 
I  was  making,  when,  on  putting  back  a 
thick  screen  of  swamp-laurel,  I  found  my 
self  face  to  face  with  an  Indian  who  was 
squatting  upon  his  haunches  in  a  grassy 
plot  perhaps  twelve  feet  in  circumference 
where  no  shrubs  were  growing.  He  had 
evidently  crept  into  his  present  place  of 
concealment  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  shot 
at  one  of  the  fort  sentries. 

I  recognized  the  savage  the  moment  I 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  147 

put  my  eyes  on  him.  There  was  no  mis 
taking  that  malicious  mouth.  It  was  the 
very  Indian  whom  Van  Eyck  and  I  had  left 
bound  in  the  wilderness.  It  was  not  at  all 
strange  I  had  not  encountered  him  before, 
as  he  was  but  one  of  the  thousand  who  were 
with  the  army.  It  was  most  strange  and 
most  unfortunate,  however,  that  I  should 
encounter  him  now. 

He  did  not  know  me  at  once,  for  the 
shadow  cast  by  the  branches  about  my  face 
added  to  the  fast-thickening  twilight  shades. 
But  as  he  continued  to  gaze  at  me  a  look  of 
recognition  passed  over  his  ugly  counte 
nance.  He  put  aside  the  rifle  which  lay 
across  his  knees,  and  drew  his  scalping 
knife.  A  swift  chill  went  over  me,  for  I 
was  unarmed.  It  had  not  occurred  to  me 
that  I  should  have  occasion  to  use  my 
pistols,  and  gun  or  sword  would,  I  knew, 
be  only  an  encumbrance. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  the  savage 
meant  mischief.  The  treatment  he  had 
received  at  the  hands  of  Van  Eyck  and 
myself  had  been  anything  but  tender,  and 


148  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

I  was  sufficiently  well  acquainted  with 
Indian  nature  to  realize  that  revenge  would 
be  his  first  thought. 

Still  holding  back  the  branches,  and 
keeping  my  eyes  upon  the  Indian,  I  dropped 
upon  one  knee  and  ran  the  fingers  of  my 
disengaged  hand,  the  right,  over  the  ground. 
They  came  in  contact  (and  1  have  always 
maintained  that  it  was  providential)  with  a 
gnarled  root,  at  which  I  gave  a  quick  tug. 
The  earth  was  soft,  and  the  root,  a  fragment 
of  some  long-dead  tree,  hardened  through 
continuous  contact  with  the  water,  was  dis 
lodged  by  my  sudden  effort.  The  savage 
saw  my  movement,  but  could  not  solve  the 
meaning  of  it.  I  believe,  however,  that  he 
fancied  I  was  drawing  a  weapon,  for  he  cast 
his  knife  at  me  so  swiftly  that  I  had  barely 
time  to  duck  my  head.  The  knife  was  in 
tended  for  my  throat,  but  only  damaged 
my  hat  and  cut  a  furrow  in  my  scalp  just 
below  my  crown. 

Maddened  by  the  sting  of  pain,  I  did  not 
wait  for  a  renewal  of  the  attack,  but  met 
my  enemy  half  way  as  he  was  coming  upon 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  149 

me  with  his  tomahawk.  My  blow  was  a  true 
one,  and  as  deadly  as  it  was  true.  The 
knotted  root,  almost  as  heavy  and  hard  as  a 
stone,  struck  the  savage  upon  the  forehead 
between  the  eyes,  and  crushed  his  skull 
as  though  it  had  been  an  egg-shell.  Back 
ward  he  fell  in  a  heap,  his  weapon  flying  to 
one  side,  one  dull  moan  of  agony  escaping 
his  lips. 

Unthinkingly  I  staggered  to  my  feet,  my 
head  and  shoulders  in  full  view  above  the 
bushes.  I  was  not  observed  for  an  instant, 
then  "crack"  rang  a  musket,  and  the  bullet 
sang  by  me  with  waspish  viciousness.  As 
I  dropped  to  the  ground  several  others  cut 
the  twigs  about  me,  and  I  crept  away  from 
the  spot  toward  the  river  with  all  haste, 
satisfied  that  any  further  effort  to  gain  en 
trance  to  the  fort  that  night  would  be 
futile. 


CHAPTER  IX 

The  Baronet  Shows  His  Hand 

ATLESS  and  smeared  with  blood 
from  the  wound  on  my  head,  I 
finally  reached  the  baronet's 
camp  just  as  dusk  was  deepening  into  night. 
A  sorry  spectacle  I  must  have  been  when  I 
presented  myself  to  Sir  John  and  Colonel 
Glaus,  who  were  reclining  before  a  small 
camp-fire  which  had  been  built  to  drive 
away  the  swarming  gnats. 

"  Whom  have  we  here?"  cried  the  baronet 
in  a  peremptory  tone. 

I  explained  my  errand  and  the  cause  of 
my  plight  in  as  few  words  as  possible,  stat 
ing  in  regard  to  my  encounter  with  the  In 
dian  no  more  than  the  fact  that  I  had  been 
attacked  by  a  savage. 

"The  redskin  must  have  taken  you  for 
one  of  the  enemy,"  said  the  colonel. 

"The  fellow  doubtless  belonged  to  the 
band  I  stationed  beyond  the  river,"  com- 

150 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  151 

merited  the  baronet,  indicating  that  he  had 
forestalled  St.  Leger's  wish. 

My  message  delivered,  I  was  turning  to 
withdraw  when  Sir  John  remarked  in  a 
most  sarcastic  tone, "  Perhaps  we  had  better 
provide  you  with  an  escort,  Mr.  Aubrey, 
you  seem  to  be  so  easily  mistaken  for  a 
rebel." 

"Thank  you,"  I  said  stiffly,  "I  think  I 
have  proven  that  I  can  protect  myself." 

Still  without  a  covering  for  my  head,  I 
strode  swiftly  away  into  the  darkness,  anger 
and  dread  grappling  with  my  breast.  I 
fancied  I  heard  Colonel  Claus  say  some 
thing  in  remonstrance  to  Sir  John,  and 
flung  a  hasty  look  back  to  see  if  the  two 
had  moved.  The  baronet  had  risen,  and 
was  apparently  giving  orders  to  a  soldier 
who  was  facing  him.  I  could  not  distin 
guish  the  man's  face,  but  I  saw  that  it  was 
not  the  colonel. 

My  path  led  me  in  the  direction  of  the 
fort,  and  as  I  passed  one  of  the  bastions 
there  burst  from  the  woods  on  all  sides  a 
wild  chorus  of  whoops  and  yells  that  echoed 


152  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

and  re-echoed  down  the  forest  arches,  and 
were  flung  back  with  demoniac  fierceness 
from  beyond  the  river.  I  will  not  deny 
that  I  was  much  startled,  and  it  was  with 
far  from  a  feeling  of  perfect  security  that 
I  continued  on  my  way.  The  noise  ceased 
almost  as  suddenly  as  it  had  broken  forth, 
only  to  ring  out  again  a  moment  or  two 
later.  Pausing  to  listen  to  the  second  out 
burst,  I  fancied  I  caught  the  sound  of  foot 
falls  hard  behind  me,  and  crouched  down 
in  a  little  hollow  to  see  if  my  suspicions 
were  correct.  Presently  a  soldier  came 
slinking  along,  and  halted  not  ten  yards 
distant,  peering  about  him  into  the  dark 
ness.  I  crept  toward  him,  and  was  almost 
at  his  side  before  he  saw  me. 

"Give  my  compliments  to  Sir  John  John 
son,"  I  said,  "and  assure  him  that  his  solic 
itude  for  my  safety  is  quite  unnecessary." 

The  man  stammered  some  foolish  excuse, 
and  I  left  him  standing  there  abashed  and 
chagrined. 

Preparations  for  the  siege  progressed 
briskly  the  following  day.  The  battery  on 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  153 

the  ridge  was  ready  for  the  guns,  and  Sir 
John  had  thrown  up  a  redoubt  near  the 
river.  The  Indians  posted  themselves  in 
every  conceivable  place  of  concealment 
within  rifle  shot  of  the  fort,  and  succeeded 
in  picking  off  several  men  who  were  at 
work  strengthening  the  ramparts.  Night 
drew  on,  and  still  there  was  no  opportunity 
for  carrying  out  my  cherished  plan  of 
escape. 

On  the  morning  of  the  5th  a  part  of  the 
guns  arrived,  and  were  speedily  put  in 
place.  A  few  ineffective  shells  were  fired, 
and  then  St.  Leger  decided  to  wait  until 
the  whole  battery  was  in  working  order. 
I  had  been  unoccupied  that  morning  as 
I  had  been  a  greater  part  of  the  day  pre 
vious,  and  sat  down  to  dinner  with  the 
younger  officers  of  St.  Leger's  and  the 
King's  Regiment,  to  whose  mess  I  had  been 
assigned,  moody  and  uncommunicative.  I 
began  to  think  I  was  destined  to  be  a 
hanger-on  in  the  besieger's  camp  for  an 
indefinite  period,  since  it  was  evident  that, 
contrary  to  St.  Leger's  expectation,  the 


154  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

siege  was  likely  to  drag  itself  out  for  weeks. 
Indeed  I  much  doubted,  as  I  had  from  the 
first,  if  it  ever  proved  successful.  The 
garrison  certainly  seemed  bent  on  resisting 
to  the  last,  and  it  was  impossible  to  see  how 
St.  Leger  could  force  the  Continentals  to 
capitulate. 

Most  of  the  officers  whose  mess  I  shared 
treated  me  with  consideration,  if  not  cour 
tesy.  Lieutenant  Hamilton  was  the  only 
one  whose  manner  was  unfriendly,  and  his 
studied  rudeness  both  puzzled  and  annoyed 
me.  As  I  took  my  place  at  the  rough  table 
where  we  were  served,  I  saw  from  the  ex 
pression  of  his  face  that  he  was  more  than 
usually  sour-tempered,  and  for  the  first 
time,  owing  doubtless  to  my  own  disquieted 
mood,  I  found  myself  resenting  his  attitude 
toward  me.  Hitherto  I  had  simply  ignored 
it. 

The  conversation,  whether  by  intention 
or  chance  I  know  not,  turned  upon  the 
Tories  and  the  assistance  they  had  already 
rendered,  and  were  likely  to  render,  the 
king's  cause. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  155 

Most  of  the  officers,  citing  Sir  John  John 
son,  Colonel  Glaus,  and  Colonel  Butler  as 
examples,  were  generous  in  praise  of  the 
zeal  of  these  leaders  and  their  followers. 

"  Granted !  "  cried  Lieutenant  Hamilton, 
te  we  have  with  us  a  zealous  body  of  allies, 
but  what  I  maintain  is  that  these  men  are 
loyal  exceptions.  The  main  body  of  so- 
called  Tories  in  the  colonies  are  cowards." 

"Folly!  Hamilton,  you  don't  know  what 
you  are  saying!"  exclaimed  Lieutenant 
Hare.  "Look  at  the  New  Yorkers!" 

"They'd  all  turn  coats  quickly  enough  if 
our  troops  weren't  in  possession  of  the 
city,"  asserted  the  other.  "Then  take  the 
interior  of  the  country — this  Mohawk  Val 
ley  for  example,  where  we  are  to  march 
presently.  Why  don't  these  brave  gentle 
men  there  bestir  themselves?" 

"They  need  a  Sir  John  to  lead  them,  I 
suppose,"  some  one  suggested. 

"Yes,  and  very  careful  they  are  not  to 
make  a  move  while  the  leader  is  still  a  few 
miles  distant,"  sneered  the  lieutenant. 
"The  fact  of  the  matter  is,"  he  continued. 


156  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

looking  straight  at  me,  "I  have  yet  to  meet 
a  civilian  who  would  fight  unless  he  were 
driven  to  it.  Your  ordinary  citizen  has 
nothing  in  his  veins  but  milk  and  water." 

The  insult  was  so  unexpected  and  so  fully 
unprovoked  that  I  was  too  astonished  to  at 
tempt  a  reply.  Two  or  three  of  the  officers 
glanced  at  me  a  little  curiously,  but  I  am 
sure  it  did  not  occur  to  them  that  Lieuten 
ant  Hamilton  had  any  intention  of  deliber 
ately  affronting  me.  There  was  an  awk 
ward  silence  of  a  few  seconds,  then  the 
lieutenant  went  on  mockingly : 

"Why,  the  sight  of  gun  or  sword  is  enough 
to  turn  the  swarthiest  civilian  as  pale  as  the 
commander's  new  secretary  yonder." 

If  my  face  had  worn  a  noticeable  pallor 
(a  thing  natural  with  me  when  perturbed  or 
down-spirited)  it  certainly  changed  hue,  and 
that  swiftly,  at  these  words. 

"It  may  be  that  the  common  citizen  does 
love  peace  and  dread  war,"  said  I,  "but  he 
at  least  has  the  speech  and  manners  of  a 
gentleman  which,  I  regret  to  discover,  is 
not  true  of  a  certain  officer  in  his  Majesty's 
service." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  157 

That  the  man  had  any  purpose  in  pro 
voking  me  to  a  quarrel  did  not  enter  my 
head,  or  I  had  made  a  violent  effort  to  re 
strain  myself,  and  had  not  spoken  as  I  did. 
Several  officers  started  to  their  feet  as 
though  to  interpose  between  us.  Lieu 
tenant  Hamilton,  however,  not  a  little  to 
my  astonishment,  took  my  retort  coolly 
enough.  He  eyed  me  with  a  chilly  smile, 
and  said  in  an  even  tone,  as  though  it  was 
a  matter  of  small  import, 

"I'll  prick  your  skin  for  that,  my  simple 
secretary." 

"I'm  very  willing  you  should  try,"  I 
replied,  and  just  then  Lieutenant  Bird 
walked  in  upon  us. 

He  was  the  only  one  of  those  present 
who  had  evinced  for  me  any  real  friendli 
ness,  so  I  naturally  turned  to  him. 

"A  little  difference  of  opinion  to  settle, 
Bird,  that's  all,"  called  Lieutenant  Hamil 
ton  to  him  with  a  laugh,  as  I  asked  him  to 
act  for  me  in  the  affair. 

He  drew  me  aside,  and  listened  with 
knitted  brow  to  my  account  of  what  had 
happened. 


158          THE  SON   OF  A  TORY 

"Hamilton's  a  quarrelsome  fellow,"  he 
said,  when  I  had  finished,  "but  I  don't 
understand  this.  He  certainly  can't  have 
been  drinking  at  this  hour  of  the  day. 
Have  you  ever  done  anything  to  provoke 
his  enmity?" 

"Nothing,  unless  it  be  that  he  is  angry 
because  St.  Leger  has  made  me  his  secre 
tary/' 

"Ah!  that  may  be  it,  though  I  remem 
ber  he  used  to  swear  that  he  hated  the  part 
of  a  scribe — work,  I  have  heard  him  say, 
fit  only  for  a  common  clerk." 

"However  that  may  be,"  I  answered, 
"this  meeting  cannot  be  avoided." 

"Not  if  he  will  apologize?" 

"He'll  not  do  that." 

"Certainly  it  isn't  like  him." 

"But,  my  dear  fellow,"  cried  Bird  sud 
denly,  an  unpleasant  thought  coming  into 
his  mind,  "Hamilton's  a  skilful  swordsman, 
and  you " 

He  stopped  and  looked  at  me  in  doubt. 

"Are  a  novice,  were  you  going  to  say?" 

He  nodded. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  159 

"  It  can't  be  helped,"  I  said,  not  choosing 
to  tell  him  I  was  by  no  means  ignorant  of 
sword-play. 

Lieutenant  Hare  in  behalf  of  Hamilton 
now  approached,  and  after  a  few  moments' 
consultation  with  Lieutenant  Bird  (an  apol 
ogy,  as  my  second  had  surmised,  being  out 
of  the  question)  it  was  arranged  that  the 
meeting  should  take  place  in  half  an  hour 
in  a  little  clearing  in  the  woodland  to  the 
rear  of  the  camp. 

Though  I  had  no  fear  as  to  the  outcome 
of  the  encounter,  being  fully  confident  of 
my  ability  to  give  a  good  account  of  my 
self  (my  father  had  long  ago  told  me  I  was 
a  very  apt  pupil),  I  retired  to  my  tent  and 
penned  a  few  lines  to  Margaret,  in  case  the 
worst  by  any  chance  should  happen.  This 
missive,  with  brief  instructions  in  regard  to 
its  delivery  should  aught  serious  befall  me, 
I  gave  into  the  hands  of  Lieutenant  Bird  as 
we  repaired  together  to  the  place  of  meet 
ing. 

It  chanced  that  none  of  those  engaged  in 
the  affair,  either  principals  or  seconds,  was 


160  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

on  duty  before  three  o'clock,  so  there 
seemed  to  be  small  likelihood  of  an  inter 
ruption. 

The  spot  selected  for  the  encounter  was 
well  shaded,  and  there  was  little  choice 
of  position.  Lieutenant  Hamilton  and  I 
saluted  each  other  formally,  and  then  our 
blades  crossed.  As  my  grip  tightened  on 
the  hilt  of  the  good  weapon  with  which  my 
second  had  supplied  me,  and  I  heard  the 
ring  of  the  steel,  my  mind  went  back  to 
the  time  when,  in  the  little  garden  adjoin 
ing  our  old  home  in  New  York,  I  had  first 
faced  my  father,  and  listened  to  and  pro 
fited  by  his  instruction.  Many  were  the 
bouts  we  had  had  there  in  my  youthful 
days;  and  later,  at  the  Flatts,  when  my 
father  no  longer  felt  equal  to  the  exercise, 
David  and  I  (for  David  had  once  been  a 
trooper  in  a  German  cavalry  regiment)  had 
frequently  tried  conclusions,  with  my  father 
standing  by  as  umpire  and  critic. 

It  had  been  several  months  since  I  had 
had  sword  in  hand,  yet  my  wrist  was  no 
less  flexible  than  of  old,  and  my  arm,  owing 


THE  SON  OP  A  TORY  161 

to  much  tugging  at  oars,  a  shade  harder 
than  it  was  wont  to  be. 

To  give  my  antagonist  the  impression 
that  my  knowledge  of  the  use  of  the  sword 
was  slight,  I  followed  the  clumsier  German 
play  used  by  David,  and  I  saw  a  smile  of 
scorn  and  triumph  flicker  about  the  lieu 
tenant's  lips  as  I,  with  apparent  difficulty, 
parried  one  of  his  vicious  thrusts,  for  he 
lost  no  time  in  making  a  vigorous  attack. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  the  onlookers  ex 
pected  to  see  me  spitted  after  a  few  passes, 
and  the  lieutenant,  judging  from  his  man 
ner,  was  quite  as  confident  as  they. 

My  opponent  was  a  good  swordsman,  and 
he  was  tricky.  I  discovered  this  fact  very 
shortly,  and  the  prick  he  promised  to  give 
me  I  certainly  got,  though  it  was  but  a 
scratch  upon  the  left  arm.  He  now  pressed 
me  closely,  evidently  intending  to  end  the 
contest  then  and  there ;  but  I  did  not  for 
once  lose  my  coolness,  and  as  I  parried 
some  of  his  most  dexterous  thrusts  I  saw  the 
expression  of  his  face  begin  to  change.  He 
was  no  longer  the  confident  bully.  He 
was  surprised,  nay,  I  think,  amazed. 


162  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

It  had  been  my  intention  from  the  first, 
if  fortune  were  with  me  in  the  fight,  to  let 
him  feel  the  point  of  my  sword  somewhere 
not  in  a  vital  part,  and  then  disarm  him. 
This,  I  knew  would  be  a  crowning  humilia 
tion;  as  for  killing  the  man,  I  did  not  give 
such  a  thought  an  instant's  harborage  in 
my  mind,  though  I  am  sure  that  he,  on  his 
part,  would  not  have  felt  the  least  com 
punction  had  he  run  me  through  the  heart. 

With  a  suddenness  that  confused  my 
antagonist  I  changed  my  tactics  and  pres 
ently  had  him  wholly  at  my  mercy.  A 
nervous  fear  clutched  him,  and  he  went  as 
pale  as  a  strip  of  parchment.  One  moment 
the  point  of  my  weapon  bit  deep  into  the 
fleshy  part  of  his  left  shoulder,  and  the 
next  his  sword  was  flying  through  the  air, 
while  a  terrible  oath  fell  from  his  lips. 

Then  while  the  little  clearing  yet  re 
sounded  with  the  clash  of  our  weapons,  St. 
Leger,  Sir  John  Johnson,  and  half  a  dozen 
others  burst  upon  the  scene.  So  intent 
had  our  seconds  been  upon  the  combat  that 
they  had  not  heard  the  sound  of  approach- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  163 

ing  footsteps,  and  we,  the  combatants, 
would  not  have  been  aware  of  it  had  ten 
thousand  men  been  marching  down  upon 
us. 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  colonel?"  cried 
Sir  John  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  toward 
where  Lieutenant  Hamilton  and  I  were 
standing. 

I  saw  by  the  contracted  lines  of  his  face 
that  St.  Leger  was  upan  the  verge  of  a 
violent  passion,  and  it  came  to  me  in  a 
flash  that  I  had  been  the  victim  of  a  plot 
deliberately  laid  by  the  baronet  to  ruin 
me.  He  had  been  shrewd  enough  to  see 
if  he  could  involve  me  in  a  duel,  whatever 
the  outcome  of  the  encounter  might  be,  I 
would  be  disgraced  in  St.  Leger's  eyes. 
Lieutenant  Hamilton,  jealous  of  my  pre 
ferment,  had  been  a  willing  tool. 

"  Mr.  Aubrey,"  said  the  commander  stern 
ly,  "you  may  consider  yourself  under  arrest." 

"What  is  the  charge  against  me?"  I 
demanded. 

"  You  stand  here  facing  one  of  my  offi 
cers,  with  your  sword  in  hand,  and  ask 


164  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

such  a  question?"  thundered  St.  Leger. 

"I  was  not  the  cause  of  the  quarrel. 
Question  any  of  those  present  when  it 
took  place  if  you  do  not  believe  me,"  I 
said. 

Lieutenant  Bird  was  about  to  speak 
when  Sir  John  Johnson  signed  to  him  to 
be  silent. 

"  The  young  man  has  a  smooth  tongue," 
said  the  baronet  to  St.  Leger. 

"And  he  has  a  sharp  sword,"  I  cried, 
quite  beyond  myself  with  anger,  "  that 
could  teach  you  the  same  lesson  that  it  has 
taught  your  protege,  Sir  John  Johnson." 

"Silence!"  shouted  St.  Leger.  "An 
other  word,  and  you  shall  be  court/-mar- 
tialed." 

This  brought  me  to  my  senses.  Reluc 
tantly  I  gave  up  my  sword,  and  submitted 
to  be  led  away  to  the  camp,  where  I  was 
assigned  to  a  small  tent  not  in  use,  and  a 
guard  stationed  at  the  door.  Here  I  spent 
the  afternoon,  with  no  companion  save  my 
own  depressing  thoughts. 


I 


CHAPTER  X 

An  Unexpected  Meeting 

Sir  Johnson  had  woven  about 
me  a  net  from  which  I  should 
find  it  difficult  to  escape,  I  had 
no  doubt.  He  had  suspected  me  from  the 
outset  to  be  friendly  to  the  cause  of  the 
Continentals,  though  he  evidently  had  no 
proofs  to  make  good  his  suspicions.  He 
hated  me  on  account  of  my  inadvertent 
reference  to  his  flight  into  Canada,  and 
my  conduct  toward  him,  on  at  least  two 
occasions  since  our  unfortunate  encounter 
that  evening  at  Oswego,  had  surely  not 
tended  to  temper  his  anger.  He  had 
maliciously  set  about  to  disgrace  me  in  St. 
Leger's  eyes,  and  he  had  succeeded.  I 
realized  that  any  attempt  to  justify  myself 
would  be  useless.  The  officers  who  were 
present  when  the  quarrel  took  place  would 
hardly  dare  say  a  word  in  my  favor,  at  the 
risk  of  incurring  the  baronet's  enmity, 

166 


166          THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

even  though  they  believed  me  to  be  in  the 
right. 

What  charge  would  be  brought  against 
me?  Had  the  military  tribunal,  with 
which  St.  Leger  threatened  me,  any  au 
thority  over  my  actions?  It  seemed  to 
me  not,  and  yet  I  knew  only  too  well  that 
the  commander-in-chief  and  his  associates 
could  and  would  do  what  they  chose  with 
me.  I  racked  my  brain  to  conjecture 
what  this  would  be,  but  came  to  no  con 
clusion  as  the  afternoon  wore  to  a  close. 

A  few  of  my  belongings  were,  at  my 
request,  brought  to  me,  the  guard  was 
changed,  and  I  was  given  a  frugal  supper, 
but  St.  Leger  did  not  come  to  question  me, 
nor  did  1  have  opportunity  of  speaking  with 
any  one  save  my  attendants  and  guards. 

About  sunset  I  noticed  a  stir  in  the  camp. 
I  was  not  allowed  to  move  from  the  tent, 
but  I  could  see  much  that  took  place  from 
the  doorway.  Soldiers  stood  in  groups 
talking  earnestly,  and  officers  hurried  excit 
edly  to  and  fro.  It  was  clear  that  some 
thing  was  on  foot.  My  guard  was  pardon- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY          167 

ably  curious,  and  fidgeted  and  fretted 
because  no  one  passed  near.  Finally  he 
caught  sight  of  one  of  his  comrades  who 
had  come  on  an  errand  to  an  adjoining 
tent,  and  called  to  him: 

"What's  the  news?" 

After  a  little  the  man  walked  toward  us, 
casting  a  doubtful  eye  at  me  as  though 
debating  the  advisability  of  speaking  in  my 
presence. 

"Indian  runners  have  arrived  from  down 
the  valley,"  he  said  reservedly. 

My  guard  joined  him  a  few  yards  away, 
and  they  talked  together  in  low  tones,  but 
I  caught  enough  of  their  conversation  to 
give  me  the  clue  to  what  had  happened.  A 
force  was  marching  to  the  relief  of  the 
fort,  and  Sir  John  Johnson,  with  a  small 
body  of  troops  and  a  large  number  of 
Indians,  was  going  to  set  out  that  night 
with  the  intention  of  surprising  the  enemy 
as  they  advanced  upon  the  morrow. 

Could  I  warn  the  Continentals?  The 
thought  leaped  into  my  mind,  but  I  realized, 
after  a  moment's  consideration,  that  even 


168  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

were  I  free  this  would  be  well  nigh  impos 
sible.  Every  one  in  the  whole  camp  was 
on  the  alert,  Sir  John  was  doubtless  even 
now  mustering  the  savages,  I  was  unfamiliar 
with  the  valley  road  ( a  rough  wagon  trail 
at  best),  and  would  be  more  than  likely  to 
go  astray  in  the  darkness. 

If  I  could  not  warn  the  approaching  Con 
tinentals  I  could  at  least  take  advantage  of 
the  excitment  their  coming  caused,  and 
this  I  resolved  to  do.  I  felt  sure  that  the 
minds  of  St.  Leger  and  the  baronet  would 
be  diverted  from  me,  orders  to  guard  me 
might  be  less  stringent,  and  an  opportunity 
to  slip  away  might  occur.  For  this  oppor 
tunity  I  determined  to  watch. 

My  guard  was  changed  at  midnight,  and 
I  discovered  with  delight  that  the  new 
comer  had  been  drinking.  I  resolved  not 
to  allow  myself  a  wink  of  sleep,  lest  by  so 
doing  I  should  miss  the  chance  for  which  I 
was  eagerly  waiting.  It  was  very  difficult 
many  times  to  keep  awake,  for  the  occur 
rences  of  the  day  had  told  severely  upon 
my  nervous  forces;  yet  by  calling  all  my 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  169 

will  power  into  action  I  managed  to  fight 
off  each  attack  of  drowsiness,  and  while  I 
frequently  appeared  to  be  unconscious,  was 
hi  reality  never  so. 

For  a  tune  my  guard  strode  up  and  down. 
Then  he  seated  himself  and  lighted  his 
pipe,  at  which  he  pulled  vigorously,  occa 
sionally  taking  a  generous  draught  from 
his  capacious  flask.  He  glanced  in  at  me 
now  and  again,  as  I  lay  rolled  in  my  blan 
ket,  muttering  under  his  breath  and  prob 
ably  wishing  I  were  as  lif eless  as  I  appeared 
to  be. 

At  last  the  gray  light  of  coming  dawn 
began  to  show.  This  was  the  hour  for 
which  I  had  waited.  It  was  now  if  ever, 
that  I  must  try  my  fortune.  The  wind  had 
blown  up  rather  fresh  during  the  night,  and 
I  had  fastened  down  one  flap  of  the  tent 
doorway.  Across  the  narrowed  entrance 
my  guard  was  half  reclining,  his  back  turned 
toward  me.  Presently  he  raised  himself, 
gazed  at  where  I  lay,  listened  to  my  breath 
ing,  and  then,  with  a  sigh,  stretched  himself 
out  at  full  length. 


170  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Ten  minutes  must  have  elapsed  before  I 
dared  to  stir,  and  what  anxious  moments 
they  were !  I  had  already  cut  one  of  the 
ropes  by  which  the  tent  was  fastened  to  the 
ground,  and  my  plan  was  to  escape  by 
raising  the  canvas  at  this  point.  I  did  not 
wish  to  risk  a  struggle  with  the  soldier, 
unless  driven  to  such  an  extremity,  for  a 
single  cry  might  bring  a  dozen  of  his  com 
rades  to  his  assistance. 

With  what  infinite  caution  I  slid  from 
my  blanket!  How  carefully  I  lifted  the 
canvas  of  the  tent  and  began  to  worm  my 
way  under  it !  Every  little  rustle  caused 
my  heart  to  leap,  and  when  something  dry 
crackled  it  was  as  though  a  thunder-clap 
had  sounded.  I  was  in  a  cold  sweat  when 
I  at  last  stood  without  my  prison.  There 
were  other  tents  to  pass,  and  there  might 
be  a  sentry  to  avoid,  but  the  time  for 
caution  was  gone.  I  must  now  be  quick 
and  bold,  and  trust  to  my  heels  and  to  my 
lucky  star.  And  there  it  was,  the  morning 
star,  bright  above  the  distant  hemlocks. 
Its  clear  rays  gave  me  hope;  the  sight  of 
it  seemed  a  lucky  omen. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  171 

Light  of  foot,  I  sprang  by  the  neighbor 
ing  tents  toward  the  open  space  that  led  to 
the  border  of  the  forest.  I  saw  no  one,  and 
heard  no  challenge.  An  instant  later  I  was 
among  the  trees — safe.  What  course 
should  I  follow?  During  the  long  night  I 
had  in  a  measure  thought  it  out.  I  had 
decided  that  if  I  escaped  I  would  strike  for 
the  cedar  swamp  a  little  southwest  of  the 
fort,  and  there  conceal  myself.  My  further 
action  must  be  shaped  by  later  develop 
ments. 

The  east  was  fast  kindling  with  the  fires 
of  dawn.  I  knew  I  must  cross  the  clearing 
to  the  west  of  the  fort  while  yet  the  light 
was  dim,  and  bent  every  effort  to  that  end. 
The  birds  had  begun  their  matin  song  in 
the  thickets,  and  were  startled  into  silence 
as  I  sped  by.  I  passed  to  the  rear  of  the 
battery  on  the  ridge,  ran  several  rods 
farther  to  the  west,  then  pressed  to  the  edge 
of  the  open  land.  No  alarm  had  been 
sounded,  so  I  was  certain  that  my  guard 
still  slept. 

The  outlines  of  the  fort  were  taking  form 


172  THE  SON  OP  A  TORY 

in  the  gray  air  as  I  started  on  my  flight  to 
ward  the  swamp.  My  footfalls  stirred  fresh 
odors  from  the  long  grass.  The  dew  soaked 
my  gaiters,  and  the  briers  tore  at  my  hands. 
I  roused  a  rattlesnake  near  a  decayed  stump, 
and  startled  a  rabbit,  which  gave  me  a  thrill 
of  fright,  for  from  the  sound  I  took  it  to  be 
an  Indian.  I  bounded  across  the  line  of 
the  carrying-place,  and  saw  before  me  the 
slight  declivity  that  led  to  the  swamp  land. 
I  could  have  shouted  loud  and  long  for 
joy.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  went  down 
that  slope  on  wings.  With  a  swift  plunge 
I  was  deep  among  the  cedars,  and  for  the 
first  time  since  my  escape  from  the  tent  I 
paused  to  take  breath. 

After  I  had  rested,  I  found  myself  a  snug 
hiding-place  in  a  clump  of  thick  trees,  and, 
reclining  against  the  trunk  of  the  largest, 
ate  half  of  the  store  of  hard  biscuit  I  had 
saved  from  my  evening  meal.  While  thus 
engaged  the  sky  began  quickly  to  brighten, 
and  peering  up  through  the  green  gloom  I 
beheld  the  first  glow  of  the  sun. 

Almost  before  I  had  finished  breaking 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  173 

my  night-long  fast,  sleep  came  upon  me. 
Now  I  made  no  resistance.  Indeed,  had 
there  been  reason  for  resisting,  I  much  doubt 
if  I  should  have  been  able  to  hold  out  for 
any  length  of  time.  The  strain  I  had 
passed  through  had  been  most  severe,  and 
nature  would  assert  itself. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  when  I  awakened  sud 
denly,  all  my  senses  alert.  Into  the  drowsy 
quietude  of  the  place  there  had  come  a 
sound.  Was  it  caused  by  a  wild  animal 
making  its  way  from  point  to  point,  or  was 
it  an  Indian?  Intently  I  listened.  I  had 
little  fear  that  I  should  be  discovered,  so 
dense  was  my  place  of  concealment,  and  I 
knew  no  redskin  had  stumbled  upon  my 
trail,  for  the  noise  proceeded  from  the  op 
posite  direction — from  the  depths  of  the 
swamp.  The  spot  where  I  lay  was  about 
midway  between  two  Indian  encampments, 
so  I  could  not  conjecture  why  any  of  the 
savages  should  be  prowling  about  with  such 
caution  in  my  vicinity.  Moreover,  I  sup 
posed  that  most  of  the  Indians  had  gone 
out  under  Sir  John  Johnson  to  surprise  the 
Continentals. 


174  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Presently  it  grew  clear  to  me  that  some 
creature,  man  or  beast,  was  drawing  near 
my  hiding-place.  For  a  time  I  would  hear 
nothing  save  the  far-off  chirp  of  a  bird,  then 
there  would  come  a  suspicious  rustle,  or  a 
twig  would  snap.  I  parted  the  branches 
upon  my  left  and  looked  out.  Between  the 
clump  where  I  was  reclining  and  the  next 
dense  growth  of  cedars  was  a  space  dotted 
with  hillocks  of  marsh-grass.  Into  this 
space,  in  single  file,  advanced  three  men, 
cautiously  stepping  from  one  secure  footing 
to  another.  The  first  I  had  never  seen. 
He  was  dressed  in  homespun,  and  wore  a 
cap  of  squirrel  skin.  He  cast  his  keen  eyes 
from  side  to  side  as  he  advanced,  and  held 
his  rifle  ready  for  instant  use.  In  the  sec 
ond  comer  I  recognized  Adam  Helmer,  a 
Whig  well  known  at  the  Flatts,  while  the 
third,  to  my  great  amazement,  was  my 
friend  John  Demooth. 

Here  was  fair  fortune  indeed,  but  how 
was  I  to  make  my  presence  known  without 
alarming  them  and  imperiling  myself  ?  The 
risk  of  discovery  which  they  were  taking 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  175 

was  great,  and  every  man  of  them  would 
be  swift  to  strike  if  he  fancied  danger 
threatened. 

I  let  the  leader  and  Helmer  pass  without 
attempting  to  reveal  my  presence,  but  when 
my  friend  was  opposite  where  I  was  hidden 
I  softly  whispered  his  name.  He  did  not 
hear  me,  so  I  spoke  again,  this  time  louder. 
Both  he  and  Helmer  stopped  and  raised  their 
guns. 

"Who  speaks?"  cried  Demooth,  his  face 
blanched  with  suspense. 

"A  friend,"  I  replied. 

"A  friend  here!"  he  exclaimed.  "In 
heaven's  name  who  are  you?" 

I  parted  the  branches  and  stepped  forth 
into  view.  Demooth  gasped  and  staggered 
back. 

"You!  You!  How — "  he  began,  when 
Helmer  interrupted  him. 

"An  ambush!"  he  cried.  "It's  that 
damned  young  Tory,  Aubrey,"  and  up  went 
his  rifle  to  his  shoulder. 

"Fool,"  said  Demooth,  striking  aside  his 
weapon,  "he  is  no  more  a  Tory  than  you 
are!" 


176  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Helmer  began  to  mutter,  but  Demooth 
silenced  him. 

"I  know  what  I  am  saying,"  he  declared, 
then  he  sprang  forward  and  we  embraced 
each  other. 

"  You  are  not  a  ghost  after  all,  he  said, 
laughing  and  gripping  my  hand.  "  But  how 
in  the  name  of  wonder  come  you  here,  when 
every  one  supposes  your  body  to  be  some 
where  at  the  bottom  of  the  Slanting 
Waters?" 

"It's  a  long  story,  and  will  keep  till  we 
are  in  a  safer  place,"  I  answered,  "though 
now  that  most  of  the  Indians  have  left  camp 
I  fancy  there's  little  danger  here." 

"Where  are  the  savages,  pray?" 

"  Why,  they  marched  off  last  night,  with 
some  of  the  troops,  under  Sir  John  Johnson 
and  Brant,  to  meet  your  advancing  force." 

"Are  you  sure,  Aubrey,  are  you  sure?" 
cried  my  friend  in  alarm. 

"I  know  it  to  be  so,"  I  said. 

"By  heaven,  I  fear  they'll  surprise  Gen 
eral  Herkimer!"  exclaimed  Demooth. 

"Never  fear  for  old  Honikol,"  said  Hel 
mer,  "they'll  not  catch  him  napping." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  177 

Nor  indeed  would  they  have  done  so  had 
it  not  been  for  his  impatient  and  mutinous 
officers  who  forced  him  to  order  an  advance 
when  his  good  sense  told  him  to  await  the 
signal  for  concerted  action  from  the  fort. 

"You  bear  messages  to  the  commander 
of  the  fort?  "I  asked. 

"Yes,"  Demooth  replied.  "We  were 
despatched  last  night  by  General  Herkimer 
from  our  camp  near  the  Oriskany  Creek, 
but  missed  our  way  in  the  darkness." 

As  he  spoke  he  began  to  move  forward, 
I  at  his  side. 

"Is  all  well  at  the  Flatts?"  I  inquired. 

I  saw  by  his  hesitancy  in  replying,  brief 
though  it  was,  that  there  was  something 
he  would  keep  back. 

"All  will  be  well  when  you  appear  again," 
was  the  answer  he  made  me. 

I  forbore  to  question  him  further,  for  our 
movements  now  demanded  our  closest  atten 
tion,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  at  the 
earliest  opportunity  I  would  insist  that 
nothing  be  concealed  from  me.  My  joy  at 
the  prospect  of  a  speedy  release  from  a 


178          THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

position  of  peril  was  clouded  by  a  sense  that 
fate  might  have  in  store  for  me  still  an 
other  blow. 

We  soon  reached  the  edge  of  the  swamp, 
where  Demooth,  Helmer,  and  their  com 
panion  tied  their  kerchiefs  to  the  ends  of 
their  rifle  barrels.  We  sprang  swiftly  up 
the  slight  acclivity  to  the  line  of  the  carry 
ing-place.  Happily  between  us  and  the 
fort  not  a  soul  was  in  sight.  Without  hesi 
tation  we  dashed  forward,  the  three  mes 
sengers  waving  their  improvised  truce-flags 
as  we  ran.  Soon  there  was  a  rousing  cheer 
and  friendly  shouts  of  greeting  from  the 
ramparts,  and  when  we  rounded  the  salient 
which  protected  the  entrance  we  found  the 
gates  open  to  receive  us. 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  Sortie 

WITHOUT  delay   we  were   con 
ducted  to  the  quarters  of  the 
commanding   officer,   Colonel 
Gansevoort,  where  we  were   immediately 
shown  into  his  presence.     He  was  at  the 
time  conferring  with  Colonel  Willett,  the 
officer  second  in  command.     Both  men  re 
ceived  us  warmly,  and  listened  with  eager 
interest  to  Demooth's  messages  from  Gen 
eral  Herkimer. 

The  sortie  which  Herkimer  desired  was 
at  once  agreed  upon,  though  Colonel  Ganse 
voort  expressed  grave  doubts  as  to  its  effi 
cacy  in  diverting  the  attention  of  the  enemy, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  the  messengers  had 
been  so  long  delayed. 

"Have  the  men  paraded  at  once,"  he 
said  to  Colonel  Willett, {<  and  call  for  volun 
teers  to  the  number  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty  to  take  part  in  the  sortie.  The  signal 

179 


180  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

guns  announcing  to  Herkimer  that  his  mes 
sengers  have  arrived  should  meanwhile  be 
fired." 

Colonel  Willett  hastened  out  to  execute 
these  orders,  while  we  remained  for  further 
conference  with  the  commander.  The  bear 
ing  of  these  officers  impressed  me  much. 
By  their  energy  and  alertness  they  showed 
that  they  were  soldiers,  every  inch  of  them. 
Though  Colonel  Gansevoort  was  but  little 
older  than  myself,  he  had  wisdom  far 
beyond  his  years.  He  had  won  distinction 
with  Montgomery  at  Quebec,  and  a  more 
valorous  and  determined  officer  for  his 
present  trying  position  could  not  have 
been  found.  Having  heard  a  brief  outline 
of  my  story,  he  expressed  the  warmest 
sympathy  for  me,  and  gave  me  his  fullest 
assurance  that  I  was  welcome  within  the 
fort.  He  questioned  me  closely  in  regard 
to  the  numbers  and  position  of  the  enemy, 
and  I  was  glad  to  be  able  to  give  him  infor 
mation  which  he  regarded  as  most  valuable. 

Shortly  after  the  echo  of  the  signal  guns 
died  away  we  followed  Colonel  Gansevoort 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  181 

from  his  quarters,  and  found  the  whole 
garrison  on  parade.  Colonel  Willett  was 
addressing  the  men. 

"Soldiers,"  he  said,  "General  Herkimer 
is  on  the  march  to  our  relief.  Your  com 
mander  believes  that  some  of  the  enemy's 
forces  under  Sir  John  Johnson,  and  their 
Indian  allies  under  Brant,  have  stolen  away 
during  the  night  to  meet  him.  Sir  John's 
camp  is  therefore  weakened.  As  many  of 
you  as  are  willing  to  follow  me  in  an  attack 
upon  it,  and  are  not  afraid  to  die  for  lib 
erty,  will  shoulder  arms  and  step  one  pace 
forward." 

Two  hundred  at  once  responded  to  this 
call,  and  at  the  second  appeal  the  addi 
tional  fifty  who  were  desired  volunteered. 

As  I  listened  to  Colonel  Willett's  speech, 
and  saw  the  quick  response  with  which  it 
was  met,  a  sudden  desire  filled  me.  Walk 
ing  quickly  to  where  he  stood,  I  saluted 
him. 

"Have  you  room  for  one  more  recruit?" 
I  asked. 

He  did  not  understand  the  motives  that 


182  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

prompted  me  as  did  Colonel  Gansevoort, 
yet  he  acceded  promptly  to  my  wish. 

"Yes,"  he  answered.  "Let  this  man  be 
enrolled  in  Captain  Van  Benschoten's  com 
pany. 

The  officer  named  greeted  me  civilly, 
and  assigned  to  me  a  place  in  the  ranks. 
As  we  stood  awaiting  orders,  I  saw  that 
the  west  was  ominous  with  dark  banks  of 
clouds.  With  marvelous  rapidity  they 
came  rushing  toward  the  zenith.  Every 
second  the  sky  grew  blacker.  At  length 
there  was  a  flash  and  a  roar,  as  though  a 
battery  of  an  hundred  guns  had  opened 
fire. 

"To  shelter,  men,"  shouted  Colonel  Wil- 
lett,  and  we  sought  cover  with  all  haste. 

For  nearly  an  hour  the  storm  raged,  and 
during  this  time  I  was  enabled  to  quiet  the 
gnawings  of  my  stomach,  which  had  grown 
rebellious  under  long  neglect.  The  sun 
came  out  from  behind  the  rack  burning 
hot,  and  the  ground  began  to  steam  with 
vapor.  The  moment  there  was  a  gleam  of 
sunlight  we  again  gathered  under  arms, 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY          183 

and  a  three-pounder  was  unlimbered  for 
action. 

The  success  of  our  undertaking  depended 
upon  quick  movement,  for  the  sentries  at 
Sir  John's  camp,  who  could  be  plainly  seen 
from  the  ramparts  of  the  fort,  would  speed 
ily  discover  us  and  give  the  alarm.  Much 
to  my  delight  I  found  the  position  assigned 
to  me  was  in  the  advance  guard.  It  would 
have  been  a  grievous  disappointment  had 
Captain  Van  Benschoten's  company  been 
detailed  to  protect  the  rear. 

The  gates  of  the  fort  were  quietly  opened, 
and  we  emerged  at  double-quick.  The 
ground  was  slightly  descending,  and  as 
we  charged  down  with  a  fierce  determina 
tion,  the  sentries  caught  sight  of  us,  and 
fled  without  firing  a  shot.  So  completely 
did  we  take  the  enemy  by  surprise  that  the 
soldiers  at  that  time  in  camp  had  no  oppor 
tunity  to  form  an  organized  resistance.  A 
scattered  volley,  which  did  no  damage, 
greeted  us,  and  then  there  was  a  general 
rush  for  the  river. 

I  fancied  I  caught  sight  of  Sir  John  John- 


184  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

son  flying,  hatless  and  coatless,  in  a  most 
undignified  and  precipate  fashion,  but  as 
I  knew  he  had  marched  out  at  the  head  of 
the  troops  the  night  before  I  concluded  I 
must  be  mistaken,  unless  for  some  reason 
he  had  delegated  the  command  to  one  of 
his  aides,  and  unexpectedly  returned. 

Discharging  our  muskets  at  the  fugitives, 
we  dashed  exultantly  into  their  encamp 
ment. 

"This  way  to  Sir  John's  tent!"  I  shouted 
to  an  officer  of  about  my  own  age  who 
chanced  to  be  near  me,  Lieutenant  Stock- 
well,  as  I  afterward  learned. 

"Lead  on! "  cried  he,  and  into  the  head 
quarters  of  the  baronet  I  plunged  with  a 
fierce  delight.  I  confess,  though  it  is  little 
to  my  credit,  that  the  spirit  of  retaliation, 
of  revenge, — call  it  by  what  name  you 
will, — was  hot  within  me.  I  recalled  the 
contemptible  means  Sir  John  had  employed 
to  degrade  and  humiliate  me,  and  over 
turned  his  private  belongings  with  a  reck 
less  glee  that  surprised  my  companion. 

"This   will    be    entertaining   reading!" 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  185 

I  exclaimed,  as  I  pulled  forth  and  displayed 
Sir  John's  orderly  book.  "I  will  present 
it  to  Colonel  Willett."  I  was  true  to  my 
word,  and  I  believe  that  gallant  officer  has 
the  Tory  baronet's  army  record  in  his 
possession  to  this  day. 

While  we  were  rummaging  among  Sir 
John's  effects  a  part  of  the  force  had  over 
run  the  adjoining  Indian  encampment  and 
driven  the  few  savages,  who  had  failed  to 
accompany  their  comrades,  into  the  woods. 
This  victorious  party  now  returned,  laden 
with  blankets  and  arms.  So  great  were  the 
spoils  captured  that  Colonel  Willett  was 
obliged  to  send  a  squad  of  men  to  the  fort 
for  several  old  army  wagons,  which  had 
long  ago  been  used  in  transporting  stores, 
that  the  booty  might  be  more  easily  re 
moved.  Three  times  were  these  wagons 
loaded  and  unloaded  before  everything  had 
been  transferred  within  the  ramparts.  A 
vast  amount  of  camp  equipage  was  taken, 
together  with  stores,  clothing,  arms,  am 
munition,  and  five  British  standards.  These 
last-named  trophies  were  discovered  by 


186  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

lieutenant  Stockwell  and  myself.  Various 
private  papers — memoranda  and  journals 
— were  also  found  which  gave  desirable 
information  to  the  besieged. 

While  the  wagons  were  being  loaded  for 
the  last  time  a  small  force  from  St.  Leger's 
camp  appeared  upon  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river.  Major  Badlam  opened  upon 
them  with  the  three-pounder,  and  they 
hurriedly  retreated  out  of  range.  Present 
ly,  however,  they  were  reinforced  by  a 
troop  under  St.  Leger  himself ,  and  advanced 
firing  upon  us.  But  their  shots  were  in 
effectual,  and  as  everything  was  now  in 
readiness,  and  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by 
an  engagement  with  the  river  between, 
Colonel  Willett  gave  orders  to  retire.  This 
we  did,  discharging  a  parting  volley,  which 
checked  the  enemy  from  further  aggressive 
demonstration.  St.  Leger  was  in  a  violent 
passion.  I  distinguished  his  voice  issuing 
angry  commands,  and  concluded  that  he  had 
been  communing  with  his  boon  companion, 
rum. 

Those  of  the  garrison  who  had  remained 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  187 

within  the  fort  received  us  with  great  en 
thusiasm,  while  the  commander  congratu 
lated  Colonel  Willett  and  complimented 
the  men. 

"  We  should  raise  a  flag  in  honor  of  our 
success,"  said  Willett. 

"True,"  returned  Colonel  Gansevoort, 
"but  we  are  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  have 
one." 

"We  can  make  one!"  exclaimed  Willett, 
who  was  a  man  of  many  resources,  and 
harrying  to  his  room  in  the  commandant's 
quarters,  he  soon  returned  bearing  a  blue 
camlet  cloak  which  he  had  taken  from 
a  British  officer  in  an  engagement  near 
Peekskill.  To  this  he  added  from  the  cloth 
ing  among  the  booty  two  scarlet  coats  and 
several  white  shirts. 

"There,"  cried  he  laughing,  "is  the  ma 
terial  for  our  flag,"  and  he  dispatched 
Lieutenant  Stockwell  to  summon  a  sergeant 
who  was  known  to  have  considerable  skill 
with  a  needle. 

On  the  14th  of  June  Congress  had  adopted 
the  stars  and  stripes  as  the  design  for  the 


188  THE  SON  OP  A  TORY 

national  flag.  Although  this  action  had  by 
no  means  become  generally  known  through 
out  the  country,  Colonel  Willett  had  heard 
of  it,  and  so  was  able  to  superintend  the 
making  of  the  banner.  It  was  ready  before 
sunset,  and  amid  the  enthusiastic  cheers  of 
the  garrison  was  flung  to  the  breeze  from 
the  southwestern  bastion,  with  the  five 
captured  British  standards  beneath  it.  So 
far  as  I  have  been  able  to  learn  this  was 
the  first  time  the  flag  we  have  now  all 
grown  to  love  was  raised  upon  the  land. 
Thus  did  the  sortie  become,  in  more  respects 
than  one,  a  memorable  event. 

The  company  to  which  I  had  been  as 
signed  in  the  attack  upon  the  British  camp 
was  ordered  to  assist  in  disposing  of  the 
booty,  and  I  thought  it  incumbent  on  me 
to  lend  a  hand.  This  task  accomplished,  I 
endeavored  to  find  my  friend  Demooth. 
Failing  in  this  (I  afterward  learned  that  he 
had  fallen  in  with  an  acquaintance,  and 
gone  to  view  a  gun  which  was  being  oper 
ated  from  one  of  the  bastions),  and  chanc 
ing  to  meet  a  soldier  whom  I  recognized  as 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  189 

one  of  my  comrades  in  the  sortie,  I  begged 
him  to  tell  me  where  I  could  rest  for  a  few 
hours.  He  was  good  enough  to  take  me 
to  his  quarters  in  the  barracks,  and  there, 
worn  out  by  my  long  watch  of  the  previous 
night,  and  by  the  exciting  events  of  the 
day,  I  fell  into  a  heavy,  dreamless  sleep. 

That  evening  I  was  more  successful  in 
discovering  the  whereabouts  of  my  friend, 
and  together  we  went  to  walk  in  a  secluded 
spot  beneath  the  western  ramparts.  Late 
in  the  afternoon  the  absent  troops  and  the 
Indians  had  returned  to  the  British  encamp 
ment,  and  the  latter  were  now  showing  their 
rage  over  the  losses  they  had  sustained,  for 
it  will  be  recalled  that  a  part  of  our  force 
had  plundered  their  camp  during  the  sortie. 
Their  shouts  and  whoops  rose  with  a  venge 
ful  fierceness  through  the  stillness  of  the 
night,  and  ever  and  anon  a  futile  volley 
would  suddenly  be  directed  at  one  of  the 
bastions  from  some  sheltered  spot  in  the 
forest.  Here  and  there  in  the  shadow  near 
us  the  sentries  were  crouching,  keeping  a 
watchful  lookout  the  while,  and  a  subdued 


190  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

hum  floated  across  to  us  from  the  barracks 
and  parade-ground  where  the  soldiers  were 
discussing  the  events  of  the  day. 

"Now  for  your  story,"  said  Demooth. 

Anxious  though  I  was  to  question  him 
in  regard  to  Margaret,  I  decided  first  to 
satisfy  his  curiosity,  and  beginning  with 
my  last  night  at  the  Flatts  I  gave  him  a 
detailed  account  of  what  had  happened  to 
me.  He  listened  intently  to  the  whole 
recital,  rarely  interrupting  me  save  with 
some  exclamation  of  sympathy  or  indigna 
tion. 

"There's  the  hand  of  Providence  in  all 
this ! "  he  cried,  when  I  had  finished.  "  Mark 
my  word,  Wilton,  everything  will  turn  out 
happily  for  you.  Even  now  events  are 
shaping  themselves  to  that  end.  You  must 
realize  that  your  father's  life  could  not, 
under  the  most  favorable  circumstances, 
have  been  greatly  prolonged.  How  much 
better  it  was  for  him  to  slip  away  as  he 
did,  than  to  live  to  witness  the  disappoint 
ment  and  failure  that  are  bound  to  attend 
this  expedition  under  St.  Leger !  I  tell  you 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY          191 

it  can 't  succeed.  Think  of  the  hardships, 
too,  that  he  would  have  been  forced  to 
endure! — for  the  tide  will  turn  presently, 
and  there  will  be  a  marching  back,  and  not 
a  triumphal  progress  to  Albany." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "I  thought  of  what  my 
father  had  been  spared  when  I  was  confined 
in  disgrace  under  guard,  and  was  thankful 
he  was  not  there  to  witness  my  humiliation 
— though  it  may  be  had  he  been  present 
Sir  John  would  not  have  dared  to  carry 
out  his  spiteful  revenge." 

" Don't  delude  yourself!  It  would  only 
have  pleasured  him  the  more." 

"  But  Sir  John  and  my  father  were  friends. 
In  fact  it  was  the  baronet  who  sent  word 
to  my  father  that  the  expedition  was  under 
way,,  and  bade  him  come  to  Oswego  to  join 
it." 

"True  enough,  but  evidently  he  had  not 
taken  you  into  consideration,  and  when  he 
found  you  upon  the  scene  he  mistrusted 
you  at  once.  You  were  impolitic  enough 
to  make  him  your  enemy,  and  revenge  to 
Sir  John  Johnson  is  sweeter  than  a  score 
of  friendships." 


192  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

I  was  silent,  for  I  felt  Dexnooth  was  right. 
Then  I  changed  the  subject  suddenly. 

"Tell  me  about  Margaret,"  I  said. 

He  must  have  known  that  some  such  re 
quest  would  come,  yet  it  seemed  to  put  him 
ill  at  ease. 

"What  is  the  trouble?"  I  asked,  now 
really  alarmed.  "Is  she  not  well?" 

"No,  she  is  not,"  he  replied.  "That  is 
it.  I  fear  your  supposed  death  may  have 
affected  her  mind.  And  yet  I  believe  she 
is  sane  enough  save  on  one  point.  She 
says  her  brother  is  a  murderer,  and  has  not 
spoken  to  him  since  that  night.  Poor  fel 
low  !  I  really  pity  him,  though  he  did  treat 
you  abominably." 

"You  see,"  my  friend  went  on,  "it  came 
about  in  this  way.  Herborn  told  me  him 
self.  When  he  and  the  others  who  had 
pursued  you  returned  from  the  Slanting 
Waters,  Margaret  met  him  at  the  door  and 
boldly  demanded  where  you  were.  He  had 
been  intending  to  take  her  to  task  for 
meeting  you  had  the  outcome  of  the  pur 
suit  been  different,  but  under  the  circum- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  193 

stances  had  not  the  heart  to  do  so.  He  did 
not  attempt  to  conceal  from  her,  however, 
the  fact  of  your  supposed  drowning.  When 
she  heard  this  she  told  him  he  was  a  mur 
derer,  revealing  to  him  in  a  wild  burst  of 
emotion  that  you  were  not  a  Tory,  but 
chose  to  assume  that  position  out  of  love 
for  your  father  and  fears  for  his  health 
should  he  discover  the  truth.  This  state 
ment  Herborn  did  not  at  first  believe, 
thinking  you  had  deceived  Margaret,  but 
later,  when  the  poor  girl  was  recovering 
from  the  shock — " 

"Recovering!"  I  cried. 

"Yes,  she  kept  her  bed  for  two  weeks. 
When  she  was  able  to  sit  up  she  refused  to 
see  her  brother,  and  still  called  him  a  mur 
derer.  He  came  to  me  in  his  trouble,  and 
I  assured  him  what  Margaret  had  said  in 
regard  to  you  was  true.  Then  a  realiza 
tion  of  how  he  had  misjudged  you  and  ill- 
treated  you  came  over  him,  and  he  began 
himself  to  feel  that  he  had  been  the  cause 
of  your  death.  His  repentance  and  grief 
were  so  sincere  that  both  my  sister  and 


194  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

myself  tried  to  effect  for  him  at  least  a 
partial  reconciliation  with  Margaret,  but  to 
no  avail.  He  is  obliged  to  absent  himself 
from  home,  his  presence  affects  her  so 
seriously,  and  when  my  sister  saw  her  a  few 
days  since  there  was  no  mention  of  his 
name." 

"And  is  she  changed?"  I  asked  hesita 
tingly. 

"Alas!  she  is.  But  your  reappearance 
will  bring  the  old  look  back." 

"Would  I  might  start  for  the  Flatts  this 
very  night!" 

As  I  said  this  the  vindictive  Indian  war- 
cries  rang  out,  wilder  and  fiercer  than  ever, 
and  the  impossibility  of  carrying  my  wish 
into  effect  smote  me  to  the  heart. 


CHAPTER   XII 

The  Tarry   Within  the  Fort 

AS  my  friend  and  I  were  returning 
from  our  promenade  beneath  the 
ramparts,  we  passed  the  com 
mandant's  quarters,  and  Colonel  Willett 
who  was  standing  at  the  door  recognized 
and  hailed  us. 

"We  have  bad  news  of  General  Herki- 
mer's  force,"  he  said.  "Come  within." 

We  followed  him  to  an  inner  room  where 
we  found  Colonel  Gansevoort  scanning  a 
letter  by  the  light  of  two  sputtering  tallow 
candles.  He  gave  us  a  cordial  greeting, 
and  handed  the  missive  upon  which  he  had 
been  intent  to  Demooth. 

"I  should  say  that  communication  was 
dictated,  and  written  under  force,"  com 
mented  the  latter,  passing  it  to  me  after  he 
had  hastily  run  his  eyes  over  its  contents. 
"Provided  the  British  were  the  victors, 
which  I  am  not  willing  to  admit,  St.  Leger 

195 


196  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

has  by  some  means  induced  his  prisoners 
to  exaggerate  his  success." 

"That's  exactly  Colonel  Willett's  opinion 
and  mine,"  said  the  commander. 

The  missive  had  been  delivered  by 
Colonel  Butler  about  an  hour  previous  with 
a  verbal  demand  to  surrender.  It  was  from 
Colonel  Bellinger  and  Major  Frey,  officers 
in  General  Herkimer's  command  who  had 
that  day  been  captured.  In  it  Colonel 
Gansevoort  was  apprised  of  the  defeat,  with 
great  loss,  of  General  Herkimer's  army,  and 
of  the  death  of  many  of  the  leading  officers, 
including  the  General  himself.  The  strength 
of  the  besiegers  was  dwelt  upon  and  sur 
render  advised. 

"We'll  at  least  wait  until  morning,"  said 
Colonel  Gansevoort,  with  a  smile.  "You 
are  not  especially  anxious,  I  presume,  to 
rush  into  the  arms  of  your  old  friends  to 
night?"  he  added,  as  I  returned  to  him  the 
letter. 

"  No,  I  think  I  shall  rest  better  where  I 
am,"  I  answered.  "My  bed  in  St.  Leger's 
camp  would  be  anything  but  one  of  ease." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  197 

When  I  reached  the  room  in  the  barracks 
where  I  had  been  lodged,  I  found  some  of 
the  men  of  Captain  Van  Benschoten's  com 
pany  gathered  about  a  soldier  named  Ful- 
mer,  a  wiry,  cadaverous  fellow  who  had 
marched  upon  my  right  in  the  sortie. 

"Clement  was  shot  there  night  before 
last,"  I  heard  him  say,  "and  Buell  three 
nights  ago.  I  tell  you  I  don't  fancy  it. 
You  may  call  me  a  coward  if  you  like,  but 
I  don't  believe  it's  real  cowardice  to  be 
afraid  of  a  ball  in  the  dark.  Why,  I  'd  rather 
stand  up  in  broad  daylight  before  a  whole 
regiment." 

I  knew  that  Fulmer's  bravery  was  beyond 
question,  and  saw  that  the  men  sympathized 
with  him. 

"What's  he  speaking  about?"  I  asked  of 
one  who  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  group. 

"He's  on  for  late  guard  duty  tonight  in 
the  northwestern  bastion,  where  two  men 
have  been  shot,  and  he  doesn't  like  the 
prospect.  None  of  us  would,"  the  soldier 
answered. 

Something  I  had  noticed  the  night  St. 


198  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Leger  sent  me  to  Sir  John  Johnson's  camp 
flashed  into  my  mind,  and  I  pushed  my 
way  to  where  Fulmer  stood. 

"What  time  do  you  go  on  guard?"  I  in 
quired. 

"Two  o'clock/'  he  answered,  recognizing 
me  at  once. 

"I'll  stand  guard  with  you,  if  you  care 
to  have  me." 

"Care  to  have  you!  Give  me  your  hand 
on  it.  You're  either  a  mighty  brave  man 
or  a  fool." 

"Oh,  no,  neither!  only  a  chap  with  an 
idea." 

They  were  all  curious  to  know  what  my 
idea  was,  but  I  would  not  gratify  them  by 
revealing  what  I  had  in  mind.  Telling 
Fulmer  to  procure  a  tall  stake,  and  a  mal 
let  or  hammer  with  which  to  drive  it  into 
the  earth,  and  bidding  him  call  me  when 
he  turned  out,  I  tumbled  into  my  rough 
bunk  and  was  soon  sound  asleep. 

The  Milky  Way  was  a  spangle  of  dancing 
light  as  I  left  the  barracks  with  Fulmer. 
By  day  I  should  have  presented  a  grotesque 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  199 

appearance,  for  under  one  arm  I  carried  a 
soldier's  hat  and  coat  which  I  had  borrowed, 
and  under  the  other  a  tightly  corded  bun 
dle  of  straw.  My  companion  had  carefully 
followed  my  instructions,  and  with  our  re 
spective  burdens  we  made  our  way  to  the 
bastion.  The  sentry  who  was  relieved  did 
not,  in  the  darkness,  notice  our  singular 
preparations,  and  departed  with  a  gruff 
good-night.  Fulmer  pointed  out  to  me  the 
spot  where  the  two  men  had  fallen. 

"Here  the  stake  should  be  driven,"  I  said. 

"I  knew  what  you  were  up  to,"  he  an 
nounced,  "the  moment  I  saw  the  coat  and 
hat.'* 

It  was  not  long  before  we  had  constructed 
a  dummy  that  by  one  standing  a  few  rods 
distant,  provided  the  light  was  not  too 
strong,  might  readily  be  mistaken  for  a 
man. 

"  Now  we'll  observe  what  develops,"  said 
I,  and  stationing  ourselves  near  an  embra 
sure  we  awaited  the  first  glimmer  of  dawn. 

As  the  earliest  hint  of  a  break  in  the 
night  showed  itself,  I  bade  my  companion 


200  THE  SON    OF  A  TORY 

summon  a  gunner,  and  when  the  man  came, 
I  asked  him  to  load  the  four-pounder  which 
stood  in  the  central  angle  of  the  bastion 
with  grape  and  canister.  Then  I  requested 
him  to  stay  within  call. 

Fulmer  and  I  returned  to  our  vigil  with 
redoubled  intentness,  and  presently,  the 
veil  of  gray  that  shrouded  all  things,  grow 
ing  thinner,  our  watch  was  rewarded.  The 
sharp  crack  of  a  rifle  rang  out,  and  our  straw 
sentinel  gave  a  quick  jerk  as  the  bullet 
struck  it.  From  the  bushy  top  of  a  black 
oak  which  every  one  had  supposed  to  be 
out  of  rifle  range  a  little  cloud  of  white 
smoke  curled  slowly  upward.  The  gunner 
responded  promptly  to  our  call,  the  gun  was 
trained  on  the  tree  top,  and,  ere  the  echo 
of  the  report  had  died  away,  a  dark  form 
came  crashing  to  the  earth.  Thus  were  the 
two  soldiers  avenged. 

"They'll  not  try  that  game  again!"  cried 
Fulmer  gleefully,  and  he  spoke  truly,  for 
thereafter  the  sentry  in  the  northwest  bas 
tion  was  unmolested. 

It  must  have  been  ten  o'clock  when  John 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  201 

Demooth  came  to  awaken  me,  saying  that 
Colonel  Gansevoort  would  be  glad  of  my 
presence  at  his  quarters.  Hastily  making 
myself  presentable,  I  repaired  thither,  and 
found  the  commander  and  several  officers 
awaiting  me.  The  apartment  where  they 
had  gathered  had  been  darkened  and  can 
dles  lighted.  As  I  entered,  my  eye  fell 
upon  Colonel  Butler,  Major  Ancrom,  and 
another  British  officer  whose  name  I  did 
not  know  seated  opposite  the  doorway. 
At  sight  of  me  Colonel  Butler  started  to 
his  feet. 

"I  protest  against  the  presence  of  that 
person  at  this  interview,"  he  exclaimed  in 
a  passion. 

"  Mr.  Aubrey  is  here  at  my  request,  and 
will  remain,"  said  Colonel  Gansevoort 
calmly. 

The  eyes  of  the  two  men  met  for  a  mo 
ment,  then  the  Tory  colonel  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  resumed  his  seat.  I  was 
given  a  chair,  and  then  wine  and  cakes 
were  passed  in  ceremonious  silence.  Truly 
it  was  a  curious  scene.  The  flickering 


202  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

candlelight  cast  wavering  shadows  on  the 
faces  of  all  present,  and  undoubtedly  ac 
centuated  the  gravity  of  the  occasion. 
Presently  Major  Ancrom,  who  was  the 
spokesman  of  the  deputation  from  the  be 
siegers,  rose  and  addressed  Colonel  Ganse- 
voort. 

"I  am  directed,"  he  said,  "by  Colonel 
St.  Leger,  the  officer  commanding  the  army 
now  investing  this  garrison,  to  inform  you 
that  he  has,  with  much  difficulty,  prevailed 
on  the  Indians  to  agree  that  if  the  garrison, 
without  further  resistance,  be  delivered  up, 
with  the  public  stores  belonging  to  it,  the 
officers  and  soldiers  shall  have  their  bag 
gage  and  private  property  secured  to  them. 
And  in  order  that  the  garrison  may  have  a 
sufficient  pledge  to  this  effect  Colonel  But 
ler  accompanies  me  to  assure  them  that  not 
a  hair  of  the  head  of  any  of  them  shall  be 
harmed." 

Here  he  turned  to  Colonel  Butler. 

"That  was  the  expression  the  Indians 
used,  was  it  not?"  he  said. 

"It  was/'  answered  the  colonel. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  203 

He  then  continued,  still  addressing  his 
remarks  to  Colonel  Gansevoort. 

"I  am  likewise  directed  to  remind  you 
that  the  defeat  of  General  Herkimer  must 
deprive  the  garrison  of  all  hope  of  relief, 
especially  as  General  Burgoyne  is  now  in 
Albany." 

This  lie  in  regard  to  the  whereabouts  of 
General  Burgoyne  was  undoubtedly  a  part 
of  St.  Leger's  plan  of  intimidation. 

"Sooner  or  later,"  the  major  went  on, 
"the  fort  must  fall  into  our  hands.  Our 
commander,  from  an  earnest  desire  to  pre 
vent  bloodshed,  trusts  the  terms  offered 
will  not  be  refused,  as  it  will  not  be  in  his 
power  to  make  them  again.  It  was  with 
great  difficulty  that  he  persuaded  the  In 
dians  to  consent  to  the  present  arrangement, 
since  it  will  deprive  them  of  plunder,  which 
they  always  set  so  much  store  by  on  similar 
occasions.  Should  the  terms  proposed  be 
rejected,"  and  here  the  major  spoke  more 
deliberately,  and  with  added  emphasis,  "it 
will  not  be  possible  for  Colonel  St.  Leger 
to  restrain  the  Indians,  who  are  much  exas- 


204  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

perated  and  very  numerous,  from  plunder 
ing  property  and  destroying  lives.  Indeed 
they  threaten  to  march  down  the  country 
and  burn  the  settlements  and  slay  their  in 
habitants.  Colonel  St.  Leger  ardently  hopes 
that  these  considerations  will  have  due 
weight  with  you,  that  you  will  be  induced, 
by  complying  with  the  terms  now  offered, 
to  save  yourself  from  future  regret  when 
it  will  be  too  late." 

Colonel  Gansevoort  signed  to  Colonel 
Willett,  who  sat  next  to  him,  and  the  latter 
rose  to  reply.  His  blue  eyes  were  blazing 
with  indignation  as  he  looked  Major  Ancrom 
squarely  in  the  face. 

"You  say,  sir,"  he  began,  "  that  you  come 
from  the  colonel  who  commands  the  army 
investing  this  fort.  By  your  uniform  you 
appear  to  be  a  British  officer.  Your  speech 
— stripped  of  it  superfluities — amounts  to 
this:  that,  if  this  garrison  is  not  surrendered, 
your  commander  will  let  loose  his  Indians 
to  wreak  their  devilish  cruelties  on  defense 
less  women  and  children  as  well  as  men. 
Let  him  reflect,  should  he  do  this,  that 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  205 

their  blood  will  be  upon  his  head,  not  ours. 
We  are  at  the  post  of  duty.  This  garrison 
was  entrusted  to  our  charge,  and  we  will 
take  care  of  it.  After  you  leave  the  fort 
you  may  turn  and  look  at  its  exterior,  but 
never  expect  to  step  within  its  walls  again 
unless  you  come  as  a  prisoner.  I  consider 
the  message  you  have  brought  a  degrad 
ing  one  for  a  British  officer  to  send,  and 
by  no  means  reputable  for  a  British  offi 
cer  to  carry.  For  my  own  part  I  declare, 
before  I  would  consent  to  deliver  this 
garrison  to  such  a  murdering  set  as  your 
army,  by  your  own  account,  consists  of,  I 
would  suffer  my  body  to  be  filled  with 
splinters  and  set  on  fire,  a  practice  in  which, 
as  you  are  aware,  the  horde  of  children-and- 
women-killers  who  belong  to  your  army 
take  particular  delight." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  applause  from 
the  Continental  officers  present  when 
Colonel  Willett  concluded. 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  this  is  your 
reply?"  cried  Major  Ancrom,  turning  to 
Colonel  Gansevoort,  his  face  fairly  livid 
with  rage. 


206  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"You  are,"  was  the  answer. 

"By  God,  you'll  regret  it!" 

"Not  if  there's  any  justice  in  heaven." 

We  all  thought  the  conference  was  now 
at  an  end,  but  after  a  few  more  bitter  words 
had  been  exchanged,  and  the  British  officers 
perceived  that  their  brow-beating  tactics 
would  avail  nothing,  Major  Ancrom  pro 
posed,  on  behalf  of  St.  Leger,  an  armistice 
of  three  days.  After  Colonel  Gansevoort 
and  Colonel  Willett  had  conferred,  this  pro 
posal  was  agreed  to.  The  British  officers 
were  then  blind-folded,  as  they  had  been 
when  they  came,  and  conducted  outside  the 
fortifications. 

The  three  days  of  the  armistice  proved 
to  be  an  interval  of  sore  trial  to  my  spirit. 
Forced  to  inaction,  I  was  left  a  prey  to  the 
gloomiest  forebodings  in  regard  to  Margaret. 
Notwithstanding  Demooth's  assurances  that 
she  would  speedily  be  herself  again  on  my 
return,  I  began  to  picture  her  with  unbal 
anced  mind,  wandering,  Ophelia-like,  from 
room  to  room.  So  possessed  did  I  become 
with  the  idea  that  unless  I  could  immedi- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  207 

ately  reach  her  she  would  lapse  into  a 
state  of  decline,  and  become  permanently 
demented,  that  my  friend  with  difficulty 
dissuaded  me  from  attempting  to  pass 
alone  through  the  enemy's  lines  by  night. 

"Think  what  it  would  mean  if  you  were 
captured!"  he  said  to  me.  "Do  you  imag 
ine,  that  you,  a  deserter,  one  who  has  in 
curred  the  enmity  of  Sir  John  Johnson, 
would  escape  with  your  life?  You  would 
be  handed  over  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
the  red  devils,  and  die  in  agony  at  the 
stake.  Why  can't  you  be  patient?  The 
siege  is  sure  to  be  raised  shortly,  for  they 
can  never  take  the  fort,  and  a  few  days 
will  make  no  difference  in  Margaret's  con 
dition." 

But  be  patient  I  could  not,  nor  could  I 
agree  with  him  in  regard  to  what  change 
even  a  brief  time  might  make  in  the  state 
of  my  beloved. 

About  noon  on  the  fourth  day  after  the 
sortie,  as  I  was  crossing  the  parade-ground, 
I  met  Lieutenant  Stockwell  with  whom  I 
had  grown  to  be  on  very  friendly  terms. 


208  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

He  gave  me  a  cheery  "good-day"  and  held 
out  his  hand. 

"It  is  good-by  as  well  as  good-day,"  he 
said  seriously.  "I  am  off  with  Colonel 
Willett  to-night  on  a  dangerous  mission — 
that  is  if  the  night  be  favorable." 

"Whither,"  I  inquired,  "if  it  be  no  se 
cret?  "  for  I  suddenly  suspected  what  they 
were  about  to  attempt. 

"We  are  going  to  try  to  get  through  the 
enemy's  lines,"  answered  the  lieutenant, 
"and  raise  another  force  down  the  valley 
for  the  relief  of  the  fort.  Colonel  Willett, 
you  know  is  much  thought  of  in  Tryon 
County." 

Here  was  the  very  opportunity  I  coveted. 

"Would  the  colonel  consent  to  my  join 
ing  you  in  the  undertaking,  think  you?"  I 
asked. 

He  shook  his  head  doubtfully. 

"You  can  speak  with  him,"  he  replied, 
"but  I  very  much  doubt  his  consent.  A 
third  would  materially  increase  the  danger 
of  discovery.  Then  have  you  considered 
the  risk?  Should  we  be  taken  your  fate 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  209 

would  be  sealed.  We  might  possibly  get 
off  with  our  lives,  but  you  would  not  have 
the  slightest  chance." 

"  I  have  reasons  for  being  willing  to  run 
every  risk." 

I  suspect  I  was  terribly  in  earnest,  for  his 
manner  changed  at  this. 

"Well  for  my  part,"  he  said.  "I'm  per 
fectly  willing  you  should  join  us.  You'll 
find  Colonel  Willett  with  the  commander. '' 

When  I  was  shown  in  the  two  men  were 
discussing  the  proposed  venture.  I  stated 
my  errand  at  once,  but  at  first  neither  would 
listen  to  my  request.  However,  when  I 
explained  more  fully  my  reasons  for  wish 
ing  to  be  one  of  the  party,  and  they  saw 
how  much  it  meant  to  me,  they  had  not  the 
heart  to  refuse.  So  I  passed  from  the 
depths  to  the  heights,  from  despair  to  the 
serenity  of  hope,  at  a  single  bound,  such 
magic  changes  will  a  turn  in  the  tide  of 
events  make  in  the  human  heart! 


1 


CHAPTER  XIII 
A  Perilous   Venture 

night  proved  most  auspicious 
for  our  undertaking.  Tumbled 
masses  of  a  murky  hue  hid  the 
stars  and  a  sobbing  wind  was  stirring 
among  the  trees,  when,  hard  upon  mid 
night,  we  crept  out  of  the  sally-port,  and 
began  making  our  way  cautiously  toward 
the  river.  A  short  distance  up  the  stream 
I  recalled  having  seen  a  number  of  logs 
floating  in  an  eddy  near  the  bank,  and 
thither  we  bent  our  steps  with  the  inten 
tion  of  using  the  timber  to  assist  us  in 
crossing.  Several  years  previous  there 
had  been  a  saw-mill  near  by,  and  the  logs 
were  undoubtedly  some  that  had  been 
hewn  and  floated  down,  but  found  too 
defective  for  use. 

Having,  without  incident,  gained  the 
point  we  sought,  each  one  of  us  divested 
himself  of  his  coat,  his  breeches,  and  his 

210 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY          211 

foot-gear,  and  fastened  his  possessions  se 
curely  to  a  piece  of  water-logged  timber. 
Thus  we  pushed  from  the  bank,  the  colonel 
and  Lieutenant  Stockwell  taking  the  lead. 
So  black  was  the  night  we  could  but  faintly 
distinguish  the  outline  of  the  opposite 
shore.  Not  a  sound  did  we  hear  save  the 
sough  of  the  wind  and  the  hoarse  murmur 
of  the  current.  For  some  reason  the 
Indians  were  silent.  It  was  our  plan,  after 
crossing  the  river,  to  strike  for  a  distance 
to  the  north  of  the  stream,  then  to  return, 
and  follow  its  course  to  the  Flatts. 

At  first  we  had  little  difficulty  in  keep 
ing  near  one  another,  but  in  mid-current  I 
was  caught  in  a  strong  swirl  and  separated 
from  my  companions.  My  log  was  so 
heavily  water-soaked  that  it  proved  hard 
to  manage,  and  when  I  reached  the  shore 
I  had  no  idea  where  the  colonel  and  Lieu 
tenant  Stockwell  had  landed.  The  bank 
was  slippery  with  slime  and,  after  having 
floundered  noisily  in  one  spot  in  my  at 
tempt  to  find  them,  I  concluded  that  rather 
than  further  endanger  my  safety  by  still 


212  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

endeavoring  to  discover  their  whereabouts 
it  would  be  better  to  strike  out  for  myself. 
I  selected  what  seemed  a  likely  place  to 
gain  the  land,  and  was  crawling  noiselessly 
up  out  of  the  water  when  my  hand  fell 
upon  the  bow  of  an  Indian  canoe.  I  had 
chanced  upon  one  of  the  points  of  com 
munication  between  the  two  shores. 

In  an  instant  my  plans  were  changed, 
and  I  decided  that  I  would  appropriate  the 
canoe  and  follow  the  river  to  the  Flatts.  I 
groped  about  but  could  not  find  the  paddle. 
While  I  was  considering  what  I  should  do, 
I  heard  footsteps  approaching,  so  there 
was  no  choice  left  but  to  take  to  the  river 
again.  This  I  did,  drawing  the  canoe  after 
me.  If  I  could  not  avail  myself  of  it,  I 
could  at  least  prevent  another  from  putting 
it  to  use,  perhaps  to  my  peril. 

The  current  swept  me  swiftly  away  from 
the  spot,  and  while  with  one  arm  I  gripped 
fast  upon  the  log,  with  the  other  I  kept 
firm  hold  on  the  canoe.  I  soon  realized, 
however,  that  this  method  of  procedure 
was  impracticable.  It  was  impossible  for 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  213 

me,  while  in  the  water,  to  transfer  my 
clothes,  which  were  bound  tightly  to  the 
log,  to  the  canoe,  and  without  a  paddle  the 
little  craft  was  useless;  so,  although  not 
without  regret,  I  let  it  slip  from  my  grasp. 
I  now  conceived  the  bold  idea  of  keeping 
in  mid-stream,  and  drifting  past  Sir  John 
Johnson's  camp  and  the  redoubt  he  had 
erected  on  the  river-bank  to  guard  the 
carrying-place.  I  felt  confident  that  even 
the  sharpest-eyed  sentry  would  discover 
nothing  suspicious  in  a  log  floating  with 
the  current,  if,  indeed,  in  the  thick  gloom 
he  saw  it  at  all. 

For  a  time  all  went  well.  In  fact,  I  was 
about  congratulating  myself  that  I  was 
safe,  when  my  log  encountered  a  snag  and 
became  so  wedged  among  the  debris  col 
lected  by  the  obstruction  that  I  began  to 
despair  of  getting  it  loose.  I  could  hear 
a  sentry  pacing  his  beat  upon  the  bank, 
and  consequently  had  to  be  most  guarded 
in  my  endeavors  to  free  my  tree-trunk 
pilot.  I  was  on  the  point  of  abandoning 
it,  when,  by  a  supreme  last  effort  I  sue- 


214          THE  SON   OF  A  TORY 

ceeded  in  parting  it  from  the  rest  of  the 
mass  of  wreckage,  and  went  drifting  on 
again  unobserved. 

I  now  began  to  feel  the  effects  of  my 
long  immersion,  and  yet  I  did  not  dare  to 
leave  the  river.  I  was  fully  a  third  of  a 
mile  from  the  carrying-place  before  I  ven 
tured  to  quit  the  stream,  and  then  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  I  could  pull  myself 
upon  the  bank,  so  exhausted  was  I.  Un 
fastening  my  clothes  from  the  log,  I  took 
a  deep  swallow  from  the  flask  I  had  had 
the  forethought  to  bring  with  me,  a  draught 
that  set  my  blood  stirring.  Then  I  wrung 
out  my  dripping  under-garments,  re-clad 
myself,  had  a  second  pull  at  the  flask,  and 
set  out  to  seek  the  Albany  road,  for  I  had 
risked  landing  on  the  south  side  of  the 
river. 

It  was  not  long  before  I  found  the  rough 
highway  which  had  been  cut  through  dur 
ing  the  French  and  Indian  War,  and  over 
this  I  went  stumbling  blindly  and  weakly, 
intent  on  putting  between  myself  and  the 
fort  as  great  a  distance  as  might  be  before 
dawn. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  215 

As  I  paused  where  the  road  dipped  into 
a  swale,  just  as  the  night  was  lifting,  I  de 
tected  the  foul  odor  of  carrion.  The  sick 
ening  smell  grew  when  I  began  descending, 
and  presently,  with  a  startling  swish  of 
wings  and  a  furious  clamor,  a  great  flock 
of  crows  swept  upward  to  the  hemlock 
tops.  Upon  the  scene  of  what  dread 
tragedy  was  I  advancing  ?  I  hesitated,  but 
considering  that  if  I  turned  back  and 
sought  another  route  I  might  lose  myself 
in  the  wilderness,  I  pressed  resolutely  for 
ward.  As  I  reached  the  base  of  the  de 
clivity  where  the  road — logs  laid  in  the 
mire — crossed  the  swamp-land,  a  wolf  with 
an  angry  snarl  sprang  from  my  path  into 
the  tangled  thicket. 

I  could  see  but  dimly,  yet  I  now  knew 
that  I  had  come  upon  the  battle-field,  the 
spot  where  Herkimer  and  his  men  had  en 
countered  Sir  John  Johnson  and  the  Indians. 
Before  me  was  heaped  a  pile  of  corpses, 
friends  and  foes  who  had  expired  in  the 
death  grapple.  Here  lay  one  who  had 
fallen  face  downward  in  the  swale,  only  his 


216  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

legs  being  visible;  there  was  stretched 
another,  the  lower  portion  of  whose  body 
was  immersed,,  the  ghastly  and  distorted 
countenance  being  lifted  skyward. 

When  the  grisly  horror  of  it  all  smote 
me,  a  temporary  strength  was  infused  into 
my  tottering  limbs.  I  leaped  over  the 
prostrate  forms;  I  fled  up  the  opposite 
slope,  panting,  straining,  as  though  all  the 
fabled  fiends  of  the  under-world  were  at 
my  heels.  But  this  effort  was  the  last 
desperate  brightening  of  a  dying  flame.  I 
blundered  from  the  roadway  into  the  woods, 
reeled  a  few  paces  among  the  trees,  caught 
my  foot  upon  a  projecting  root,  and  fell  for 
ward  at  full  length.  A  vision  of  Margaret 
seemed  to  dance  before  my  eyes,  and  then 
came  the  utter  blackness  of  oblivion. 

When  I  recovered  my  senses  the  wood 
was  humming  with  the  noises  of  mid-day. 
Every  bone  in  my  body  ached,  and  my 
head  snapped  with  pain.  Crawling  into 
the  sunlight,  I  propped  myself  against  a 
mossy  hillock,  and  there  I  laid  for  hours 
with  closed  eyes.  The  sun-bath  proved  an 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  217 

excellent  medicine,  for  late  in  the  afternoon 
my  head  ceased  its  terrible  throbbing,  and 
the  rackings  pains  left  my  joints.  The 
nausea  which  I  had  experienced  on  awak 
ening  also  disappeared,  and  I  was  able  to 
partake  sparingly  of  the  cheese  and  hard 
biscuit  which  I  had  brought  with  me. 
Moreover,  I  discovered  a  spring  welling  up 
in  a  mossy  basin  close  at  hand,  and  the 
copious  draughts  I  had  from  it  helped 
materially  to  relieve  my  distress. 

Further  progress  that  day,  however,  was 
out  of  the  question,  so  I  set  about  making 
myself  as  comfortable  as  possible  for  the 
night.  From  the  scrub  hemlocks  I  cut  a 
great  heaps  of  boughs,  and,  burrowed  among 
these,  I  slept  restfully  and  soundly.  I  was 
much  encouraged  the  next  morning  to  find 
how  little  soreness  remained  in  my  limbs, 
and  after  breakfasting  (I  managed  to  eke 
out  my  meal  with  blackberries,  which  grew 
about  me  in  abundance)  I  set  out  toward 
the  Flatts,  having  first  cut  a  stout  hickory 
staff  to  prop  my  steps. 

I  made  a  brave  start,  and  nattered  my- 


218  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

self  that  I  was  going  to  progress  famously, 
but  I  very  quickly  discovered  that  I  had 
little  endurance.  I  was  forced  to  pause 
frequently  to  rest,  and  when  sunset  came 
had  traversed  scarcely  ten  miles.  I  did 
not  allow  myself  to  become  disheartened, 
however,  impatient  though  I  was  to  look 
into  the  eyes  of  my  love,  to  hear  her  voice, 
and  to  know  once  more  the  heaven  of  her 
kiss. 

Casting  about  for  a  place  to  pass  the 
night,  I  finally  selected  a  willow  copse  close 
to  a  ford  in  the  Mohawk,  and  not  very  far 
distant  from  the  site  of  the  present  thriving 
town  of  Utica.  Hard  by,  on  the  river 
bank,  was  a  clearing  used  as  a  camping- 
place  by  travelers  on  their  way  to  Fort 
Stanwix,  and  the  west  and  north.  I  was 
debating  whether  I  could  with  safety  start 
a  fire,  when  I  was  startled  and  astonished 
to  hear  the  murmur  of  voices.  Creeping 
to  the  edge  of  the  clearing,  I  was  just  in 
time  to  see  appear  from  the  direction  of 
Fort  Stanwix  a  dozen  or  more  white  men 
and  nearly  as  many  Indians.  The  leader 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY          219 

of  the  party  was  Walter  Butler,  the  son  of 
Colonel  Butler,  at  this  time  a  lieutenant  in 
the  "Rangers,"  and  later  one  of  the  most 
bitter  and  cruel  of  all  the  Tory  leaders. 
Much  to  my  surprise,  and  not  a  little  to  my 
regret,  I  discovered  that  my  quondam  com 
panion  and  friend,  Van  Eyck,  was  acting 
as  guide  to  the  expedition.  That  they 
were  bent  upon  some  sort  of  mischief  I 
had  no  doubt,  and  I  resolved  to  thwart 
them  if  I  could. 

From  my  hiding-place  I  watched  them 
make  hasty  preparations  for  supper,  and, 
as  fortune  would  have  it,  during  their  meal 
Butler,  Van  Eyck,  and  several  others  sat 
within  ear-shot,  so  that  I  was  able  to  catch 
detached  scraps  of  their  conversation. 

"You  know  this  man  Shoemaker?"  I 
heard  Butler  say.  "There's  no  doubt 

»/ 

about  his  loyalty?" 

"Not  the  slightest,"  returned  Van  Eyck. 
"He's  true  to  the  core.  His  house,  as  I 
think  I  told  you,  is  a  mile  and  a  hah0,  or 
thereabouts,  from  the  Flatts,  and  is  just  the 
place  for  a  meeting.  No  one  will  dream  of 
our  presence  there." 


220  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"You  think  the  gathering  will  be  a  large 
one?" 

"I  am  certain  of  it.  Our  coming  has 
been  announced  to  all  sympathizers  with 
the  king's  cause  by  the  most  trusty  mes 
sengers.  The  affair  is  sure  to  be  a  great 
success." 

"  Certainly  the  proclamation  should  influ 
ence  any  who  are  halting  between  two 
courses  of  action." 

"Aye!  it  should,  and  will,  if  there  chance 
to  be  any  such  present." 

Here  a  third  broke  in  with  something 
that  failed  to  reach  me,  and  I  could  not 
gather  the  drift  of  what  followed.  Soon, 
however,  Butler  turned  to  Van  Eyck  again. 

"Eight  is  the  hour  for  the  rendezvous, 
I  think  you  said." 

"Yes.  It  seemed  best  to  wait  until 
dusk,  though  there's  not  the  slightest  dan 
ger  of  an  interruption." 

"We  shall  not  need  to  make  an  early 
start,  then." 

"  No,  it  would  hardly  be  wise.  Mid-day 
will  be  quite  soon  enough.  We  are  much 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  221 

less  likely  to  be  observed  here  than  in  the 
vicinity  of  Shoemaker's." 

This  was  all  I  cared  to  know.  I  stole 
from  the  spot,  and  when  I  finally  stretched 
myself  out  for  the  night,  on  a  wooded 
slope  fifty  yards  from  the  highway,  I  was 
fully  a  mile  from  the  Tory  and  Indian 
encampment. 

I  felt  quite  myself  on  the  following 
morning,  and  set  my  face  toward  my  goal 
soon  after  day-break.  I  was  forced,  how 
ever,  to  take  a  long  rest  at  noon-tide,  so 
afternoon  was  waning  before  the  houses  of 
the  Flatts  met  my  view.  As  I  caught  sight 
of  the  familiar  rude  and  unpainted  build 
ings,  tears  started  to  my  eyes,  and  a  wave 
of  emotion  swept  through  me.  "At  last," 
I  thought,  "I  am  nigh  unto  my  heart's 
desire." 

For  the  present  I  was  anxious  to  escape 
recognition,  so  I  slouched  my  hat  over  my 
brows,  kept  my  gaze  averted,  and  affected 
a  limp  that  was  wholly  unnatural.  The 
scraggly  growth  of  beard  upon  my  face 
aided  in  the  disguise.  A  settler  whom  I 


222  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

knew  slightly  met  me  at  the  outskirts  of 
the  Flatts,  and  took  me  to  be  one  of  Her- 
kimer's  force  who  had  been  wounded  and 
left  for  dead,  and  was  now  making  his  be 
lated  way  homeward.  It  was  from  the  lips 
of  this  man  that  I  learned  the  brave  General 
Herkimer  was  still  living,  though  sorely 
wounded,  and  had  not  been  slain  in  battle, 
as  Colonel  Bellinger  and  Major  Frey  had 
reported.  Alas,  that  this  valiant  soldier  and 
patriot  was  not  destined  to  recover,  but  was 
fated  to  lose  his  life  at  the  hands  of  a  bung 
ling  surgeon ! 

After  I  had  passed  unrecognized  through 
the  first  encounter  I  took  courage,  and 
went  more  boldly  forward.  Fortunately 
for  my  purpose  the  afternoon  was  sultry, 
and  there  were  few  folk  abroad. 

Without  further  challenge  I  reached  the 
fort.  Here  I  felt  more  at  ease,  for  I  was 
quite  unknown,  save  possibly  by  name.  To 
the  guard  at  the  gateway,  who  demanded 
my  business,  I  replied  that  I  wished  to  see 
the  comander  of  the  post.  The  fellow  re 
garded  me  with  suspicion,  which  caused  me 


THE  SON  OP  A  TORY  223 

no  surprise,  for  I  realized  that  I  looked  like 
a  veritable  outcast.  However,  he  sum 
moned  an  officer  who  chanced  to  be  within 
hail,  and  as  the  latter  approached  I  addressed 
him. 

"I  have  important  news  for  your  com 
mandant,"  I  said.  "Will  you  take  me  to 
him  at  once?" 

"Whence  do  you  come?"  he  asked. 

"From  Fort  Stanwix." 

"Ah!  then  you  are  the  young  man  of 
whom  Colonel  Willett  spoke." 

"Yes,  I  left  Fort  Stanwix  with  the  colonel 
and  Lieutenant  Stockwell.  Are  they  here 
now?" 

"  No,  they  went  on  toward  Albany  this 
morning  to  meet  General  Arnold,  who  is 
marching  to  the  relief  of  the  fort." 

I  was  shown  into  the  presence  of  the  com 
manding  officer,  Colonel  Weston,  who,  when 
I  revealed  to  him  my  identity,  was  exceed 
ingly  gracious. 

"Colonel  Willett  and  Lieutenant  Stock- 
well  feared  that  the  most  serious  of  all 
mishaps  had  befallen  you,  Mr.  Aubrey— 


224  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

that  you  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the 
Indians." 

"I  should  certainly  not  care  to  repeat 
my  experience,"  I  said,  "though  I  was  at  no 
time  in  actual  danger  of  being  captured." 

Then  I  gave  him  in  brief  an  account  of 
my  adventures.  When  I  told  him  I  had 
overheard  the  plans  of  Butler  and  his  com 
panions  his  genial  face  glowed  with  satis 
faction. 

"We'll  prepare  a  little  surprise  for  the 
lieutenant;  eh,  Mr.  Aubrey?"  cried  the 
delighted  colonel.  "I  suppose  you  wouldn't 
mind  having  a  hand  in  it  after  you  have 
had  some  dinner  and  rested  yourself  a  bit! 
And?  by  the  by,  you  look  as  though  dinner 
were  the  thing  of  which  you  were  most  in 
need." 

"I  have  been  doing  a  hermit's  penance 
for  two  days  and  a  half,"  I  replied,  "and 
wouldn't  at  all  object  to  trying  the  part  of 
the  returned  prodigal." 

He  laughed  merrily  at  this,  and  bade  me 
be  his  guest.  When  I  sat  down  at  the  plain 
yet  plentiful  board  a  brush  and  a  razor  had 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY          225 

wrought  a  decided  change  in  my  outward 
appearance,  and  when  I  rose  there  was 
quite  as  great  a  change  in  the  inner  man. 

"I  must  see  this  affair  through,  "I 
thought,  "for  I  cannot  well  avoid  it,  and 
then — Margaret!" 


I 


At  Shoemaker's 

garrison  of  Fort  Dayton  was 
made  up  of  scarred  and  hardened 
veterans  of  the  Massachusetts 
line.  For  the  expedition  which  we  were 
about  to  undertake  fifty  picked  men  were 
enrolled,  and  placed  under  the  command  of 
Captain  Borring,  the  officer  who  had  con 
ducted  me  to  Colonel  Weston.  Promptly 
at  eight  o'clock  we  left  the  fort.  The  cap 
tain,  by  whose  side  I  marched,  proved  him 
self  to  be  a  most  agreeable  companion. 
He  entertained  me  by  his  nimble  wit,  and 
showed  by  his  conversation  that  he  had  a 
lively  fancy  for  an  adventure.  He  pressed 
me  with  questions  in  regard  to  my  recent 
experiences,  lamented  Herkimer's  misfor 
tune,  berated  the  general's  injudicious  aids 
who  were  responsible  for  what  had  at  first 
threatened  to  be  an  irretrievable  disaster, 
grumbled  that  he  was  confined  to  garrison 

226 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  227 

duty  when  he  longed  to  be  in  the  field,  — 
in  short  until  we  reached  Van  Eyck's  Rift, 
where  we  were  to  cross  the  river,  he  kept 
up  such  a  vivacious  flow  of  talk  that  I  had 
no  opportunity  to  inquire  as  to  his  pro 
posed  plan  of  procedure. 

When  we  stood  upon  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  stream,  however,  his  manner  changed. 
Gathering  the  men  about  him  he  issued  a 
few  sharp  orders. 

"You  will  march  forward  in  double  file," 
he  said,  "  until  I  give  the  word  to  halt,  and 
there  must  be  no  talking  in  the  ranks." 

"My  idea,"  he  continued,  in  an  under 
tone,  turning  to  me  as  we  led  the  way,  "  is 
to  let  the  Tories  have  a  chance  to  become 
fully  engrossed  in  their  counsels,  and  then 
walk  in  and  seize  them  red-handed,  as  it 
were." 

A  spectral  vapor  had  risen  above  the 
river  and  marshes,  and  through  widening 
strips  of  it  we  needs  must  pass  as  we  held 
upon  our  course.  It  filled  the  air  with  a 
chilly  dampness  that  caught  one  by  the 
throat,  and  I  was  heartily  glad  when  we 


228  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

gained  higher  ground.  Here,  however,  the 
noises  of  the  bottom  lands  still  kept  pace 
with  us, — dismal,  hoarse,  and  eerie  croak- 
ings,  that  often  seemed  to  fall  into  time 
with  our  footsteps. 

"Egad,  hut  that's  a  mournful  tune  to 
march  to!"  said  Captain  Borring,  beneath 
his  breath.  "  It  would  give  one  the  blue 
devils  before  moonrise." 

These  were  the  only  words  I  heard 
spoken  (save  a  smothered  execration  from 
one  of  the  soldiers  who  set  his  foot  into  a 
rut  or  boghole)  from  the  time  we  left  the 
river  bank  until  we  halted  at  the  mouth  of 
a  wide  gully  about  two  hundred  yards  from 
the  Shoemaker  house.  At  this  point  the 
captain  commissioned  me  to  act  as  guide. 
I  had  several  times  penetrated  a  consider 
able  distance  into  the  gully  in  search  of 
partridges,  and  recalled  once,  on  returning 
from  one  of  these  excursions,  I  had  climbed 
a  ridge  upon  the  right  that  had  been  de 
nuded  of  trees,  and  come  out  in  the  rear  of 
the  Shoemaker  farm  buildings.  Although 
the  night  had  measurably  thickened  during 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  229 

the  last  quarter  of  an  hour,  I  had  full  con 
fidence  that  I  should  be  able  to  detect  the 
spot  where  I  had  left  the  gully.  Just 
above  it,  at  the  base  of  the  declivity,  the 
spring  torrents  had  laid  bare  a  bed  of  clay 
which  shone  almost  chalky  white  in  the 
daylight.  Even  in  the  dark  it  could  hardly 
fail  to  catch  the  eye. 

It  turned  out  as  I  had  anticipated.  The 
clay-bed  made  a  clearly  distinguishable 
line  in  the  gloom,  we  scaled  the  ridge  with 
out  accident,  and  descended  into  a  little 
glade  where  there  was  a  young  apple 
orchard.  Leaving  the  men  here,  Captain 
Borring  and  I  crept  forward  to  reconnoitre. 
We  advanced  with  extreme  care,  thinking 
some  of  the  Indians  might  have  been 
posted  as  guards,  but  it  soon  became  evi 
dent  that  the  Tories  had  not  deemed  such 
a  precaution  necessary.  We  had  about 
concluded  that  no  watch  whatever  had  been 
set,  and  were  congratulating  ourselves  on 
the  fact,  when  the  rear  door  swung  back 
to  admit  a  tardy  comer.  It  was  closed  in 
stantly,  but  the  flood  of  light  that  for  a 


230  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

breathing  space  streamed  out  (all  the  win. 
dows  had  been  completely  darkened)  re 
vealed  the  figure  of  a  solitary  sentinel. 
There  was  no  mistaking  the  thin  form  and 
the  eccentric  attitude.  The  man  was  Yan 
Eyck. 

"We  shall  have  to  dispose  of  that  fellow," 
said  the  captain.  "Do  you  keep  an  eye  on 
the  house  while  I  bring  up  the  men." 

"Very  well,"  I  answered. 

Nothing  could  have  fallen  out  more 
favorably  for  my  design.  I  had  previously 
decided  that  if  Van  Eyck  were  captured 
with  the  others  I  would  intercede  with 
Colonel  Weston  in  his  behalf,  for  I  would 
not  have  it  supposed  that  I  was  so  ungrate 
ful  as  to  forget  the  debt  I  owed  him.  Here, 
however,  was  an  opportunity  to  allow  him 
to  escape.  Could  I  prevail  upon  him  to 
accept  the  chance  ?  I  resolved  to  try. 

As  soon  as  the  shadows  had  enveloped 
the  captain's  form  I  slipped  from  the  shel 
ter  of  the  wood-pile,  where  we  had  halt 
ed,  to  the  well-sweep,  and  thence  to  the 
corner  of  the  house.  Passing  with  all 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  231 

possible  haste  to  the  front  of  the  building, 
I  struck  into  the  path  by  which  the  late 
arrival  had  approached,  and  stepped  briskly 
and  unhesitatingly  toward  the  door  where 
Van  Eyck  stood  guard. 

"Halt!"  said  he.     "Your  name." 

"Mr.  Van  Eyck,  is  it  not?"  I  returned, 
disguising  my  voice. 

"  Van  Eyck  it  is,  but  speak  up !  Who 
may  you  be?" 

'e  One  who  would  have  a  word  with  you 
before  he  enters." 

"Well,  out  with  it!" 

"Not  here.  Come  a  pace  or  two  aside. 
I  have  my  reasons." 

He  hesitated  a  second,  then,  grunting 
assent,  retired  a  short  distance.  Following 
him  closely,  as  soon  as  he  paused  I  spoke 
in  my  natural  tone. 

"Are  you  quite  sure  you  don't  know 
me?"  I  asked. 

He  clutched  me  by  the  arm,  and  thrust 
his  face  so  near  to  mine  that  I  caught  the 
steely  glint  of  his  eyes. 

"By  God,  it's  Aubrey!"  criedhe.     "How 


232  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

come  you  here?  They  told  me  you  had 
deserted." 

"They  told  you  the  truth,"  said  I,  it 
being  my  purpose  to  withhold  nothing 
from  him.  "  My  heart  was  never  with  the 
king's  cause.  It  was  solely  on  my  father's 
account  that  I  fled  to  Oswego." 

"And  you  were  a  Whig  all  along?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  why,  in  the  name  of — "  He 
broke  short.  The  reason  for  my  presence 
dawned  upon  him. 

"Damnation!"  he  hissed,  in  a  rage, 
"you've  got  us  trapped!" 

"Hush!"  I  cried.  "There  are  fifty 
armed  men  within  call.  In  two  minutes — 
three  at  the  most — the  house  will  be  sur 
rounded.  Now  the  way  is  clear.  Quick, 
go!" 

"Go,  and  leave  my  friends  unwarned! 
That's  not  old  Van  Eyck's  kind  of  a  trick, 
young  man,"  and  he  endeavored  to  push 
by  me. 

1  was  not  easily  put  aside,  however,  and 
laid  hold  upon  him  desperately. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  233 

"You  are  in  the  enemy's  country,"  I 
exclaimed,  "  and  if  you  are  taken  it  will  be 
hard  to  prove  you  are  not  a  spy.  They 
hang  spies. ' 

He  halted  in  indecision. 

"The  Whigs  of  the  Flatts  have  little 
cause  to  love  you,"  said  I.  "They  will 
show  you  but  scant  mercy." 

"It  would  be  a  coward's  act,"  said  he. 

"What  have  you  to  gain?"  I  cried. 
"Your  warning  can  avail  nothing." 

I  was  now  in  a  panic  lest  he  should  hesi 
tate  until  it  was  too  late. 

Suddenly  he  started.  His  keen  ear  had 
detected  a  suspicious  sound.  Captain  Bor- 
ring  and  the  soldiers  were  evidently  ap 
proaching.  He  wavered,  swore  under  his 
breath,  then  grasped  my  hand  and  pressed 
it  until  I  cringed. 

"You've  bested  us,"  said  he,  "but  I  for 
give  you.  Good-bye;  you've  seen  the  last 
of  old  Van  Eyck."  So  he  vanished  in  the 
night,  nor,  indeed,  did  I  ever  put  eyes 
upon  him,  or  hear  aught  of  him,  again. 
But  I  have  kept  his  rough  presence  green 


234  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

in  memory,  for  despite  his  violent  preju 
dices  and  uncouth  ways  he  was  true  at 
heart,  and  a  firm  friend  in  the  time  of  sore 
trouble. 

Van  Eyck  gone,  I  turned  in  the  direction 
of  the  wood-pile.  As  I  drew  near  I  was 
aware  of  a  figure  standing  alone  in  the 
gloom.  Instinct  told  me  it  must  be  the 
captain. 

"Are  the  men  all  here?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,"  replied  he,  "but  what  of  the 
sentry?  Is  he  still  on  guard?" 

"No,  he  has  taken  to  his  heels." 

"How's  that?"  demanded  he,  in  astonish 
ment. 

I  had  no  knowledge  how  he  would 
receive  my  explanation,  nevertheless  I 
resolved  I  would  be  perfectly  frank  with 
him. 

"I  knew  the  man,"  I  said, "  and  was  deeply 
in  his  debt.  There  seemed  to  be  a  chance 
to  square  accounts,  and  I  took  advantage 
of  it.  I  pledge  you  my  word  he  was  only 
a  poor  instrument.  The  leading  spirits  are 
within." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  235 

"I  don't  blame  you  in  the  least,"  was 
the  captain's  only  comment  upon  my  con 
fession,  and  he  showed  his  consideration 
and  confidence  in  my  good  faith  by  never 
afterward  referring  to  the  matter  by  so 
much  as  the  slightest  hint. 

A  cordon  was  now  drawn  about  the  house. 
Word  was  passed  bidding  the  men  be  on 
the  alert,  and  then  Captain  Borring  threw 
back  the  door.  With  swords  loosened  and 
pistols  tightly  gripped  we  strode  through 
the  narrow  entrance  into  the  room  where 
the  gathering  had  assembled.  Lieutenant 
Butler  was  in  the  midst  of  his  harangue. 

"Let  a  deputation  be  sent  at  once,"  we 
heard  him  say,  "advising  the  garrison  at 
Fort  Stanwix  to  surrender." 

At  this  instant  his  eyes  fell  upon  us,  and 
he  ceased  speaking. 

"Treachery!"  he  shouted,  springing 
from  the  chair  upon  which  he  was  mounted. 
"Out  with  the  lights!" 

"Hold!"  cried  Captain  Borring,  present 
ing  his  pistol.  "The  man  who  moves  does 
so  at  his  peril.  Resistance  is  useless,  gentle 
men;  the  house  is  surrounded." 


236  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Dismay  and  chagrin  smote  the  crowd. 
At  a  word  from  the  captain,  I  stepped  to 
the  door  and  called  in  a  sergeant  with  a 
squad  of  men.  Such  of  our  prisioners  as 
carried  arms  were  relieved  of  them  amid 
muttered  oaths  and  vain  protestations.  At 
first  I  was  not  recognized,  but  presently  a 
whisper  spread  among  our  discomforted 
captives,  and  exclamations  of  reproach  and 
anger  assailed  me  from  all  sides.  The  hiss 
of  "traitor"  was  loud  in  my  ears,  and  Lieut 
enant  Butler  approached  me  menacingly, 
his-  hands  clenched  and  his  handsome  face 
dark  with  scorn. 

"Doubtless  we  have  you  to  thank  for 
this,"  said  he. 

"You  natter  me,  lieutenant,"  I  replied. 
I  had  never  fancied  his  plausible,  insinuat 
ing,  patronizing  ways,  and  could  not  for 
bear  answering  him  as  I  did. 

"It  was  an  ill  hour  when  the  Slanting 
Waters  gave  you  back  to  life,"  said  one  who 
dwelt  in  the  vicinity,  and  who  shared  the 
general  belief  at  the  Flatts  that  I  was  dead. 
This  sentiment  appeared  to  be  unanimous 


THE  SON  OP  A  TORY  237 

among  the  Tories,  but  I  was  in  no  wise  cast 
down  thereat. 

With  a  few  exceptions  those  from  the 
immediate  neighborhood  who  had  given 
heed  to  the  call  issued  by  Sir  John,  Colonel 
Glaus,  and  Colonel  Butler  were  allowed  to 
depart  with  the  admonition  that  they  keep 
the  peace.  The  others  were  marched  away 
to  the  fort  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  ex 
pected  expedition  of  relief  from  Albany, 
and  the  action  of  court-martial. 


CHAPTER  XV 
My  Home-Coming 

AT  the  gateway  of  the  fort  I  took 
leave  of  Captain  Borring.  I  had 
been  much  preoccupied  during 
our  return  march,  and  although  I  endeav 
ored  to  answer  my  companion's  sallies,  he 
being  at  the  very  top  of  a  gay  mood,  I 
realized  that  I  made  but  lame  work  of  it. 
In  truth,  now  that  I  considered  my  duty 
done,  my  mind  was  too  full  of  my  beloved 
to  give  more  than  a  moment's  harboring  to 
other  thoughts.  Had  her  health  further 
declined  since  Demooth  left  the  Flatts? 
Should  I  be  able  to  see  her  that  night? 
How  should  I  manage  to  reveal  myself  to 
her  and  to  her  mother  without  causing  them 
alarm?  These  and  kindred  queries  passed 
and  repassed  through  my  brain  as  I  hastened 
along  the  valley  road.  It  was  no  longer 
dark,  for  the  moon  had  burst  through  the 
fleecy  clouds  in  the  south  east,  and  illu- 

238 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  239 

mined  the  earth  with  a  pale  silvery  glow. 
The  crickets  were  chirring  loud  in  the 
stubble,  but  save  for  their  rhythmic  cheer 
a  great  calm  possessed  the  air. 

I  went  forward,  hat  in  hand,  letting  the 
refreshing  breeze  out  of  the  west  play 
about  my  temples,  my  breast  filled  with 
conflicting  emotions — with  courage  and 
with  fear,  with  the  gravest  misgivings  and 
with  the  fondest  hopes.  A  light  in  the 
lower  windows  of  the  house  of  Farmer 
Demooth  encouraged  me  to  think  that  I 
might  find  Margaret  and  her  mother  still 
astir.  I  quite  forgot  my  fatigue,  and  struck 
into  a  swinging  Indian  lope.  Even  then  I 
could  not  keep  pace  with  my  desire  which 
winged  ahead  of  me  like  an  unjessed  bird. 
When  I  reached  the  boundaries  of  the  Her- 
born  estate  my  mind  reverted  to  my  last 
tryst  with  Margaret.  Naturally  in  this  con 
nection  the  figure  of  her  half  brother  ob 
truded  itself  upon  me.  John  Demooth  had 
told  me  that  Herborn  was  with  one  of  the 
companies  under  Herkimer's  command. 
Doubtless  he  had  participated  in  the  san- 


240  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

guine  conflict  in  the  ravine  at  Oriskany. 
Had  he  come  off  unharmed,  I  wondered, 
and  if  so,  after  what  manner  would  we  greet 
one  another  when  we  first  encountered? 
That  we  should  ultimately  grow  to  be  good 
friends  I  had  no  doubt,  but  I  could  not 
deny  to  myself  the  possible  awkwardness 
and  constraint  of  our  first  meeting. 

The  sight  of  my  beloved's  home  caused 
all  consideration  of  Herborn  to  vanish  from 
my  thoughts.  With  renewed  speed  I 
bounded  forward.  Was  it  the  glimmer  of 
a  candle  that  I  saw,  or  was  it  but  the 
delusive  moonlight  slanting  upon  the  win 
dow  panes?  Alas,  it  proved  to  be  the 
latter!  As  I  paused  in  front  of  the  house 
something  in  the  silence  smote  me  with 
dread.  I  opened  the  gate  and  passed  into 
the  yard,  my  eyes  upon  the  windows  of 
the  room  which  I  knew  Margaret  occupied. 
Was  she  there?  Ah,  what  would  I  not 
give  for  one  glimpse  of  her  sweet  face ! 

"  Margaret ! "  I  called  softly.  The  sound 
melted  into  the  night.  Again  I  spoke  her 
name,  and  waited.  There  was  no  response. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  241 

I  walked  to  rear  of  the  house,  and  looked 
about,  but  found  no  sign  of  a  living  thing. 

"Why  should  there  be  at  this  hour?"  I 
meditated,  yet  I  could  not  rid  myself  of  the 
notion  that  all  was  not  right.  Not  a  breath 
of  noise  came  from  the  stables.  Every 
where  was  the  same  ominous  quiet. 

My  mood  was  one  of  uneasiness  and 
depression  when  I  again  sought  the  road, 
and  though  I  tried  to  reason  myself  out  of 
my  low  spirits  as  I  slowly  retraced  my  steps 
over  the  ground  I  had  trod  so  buoyantly  a 
brief  time  before,  I  had  but  poor  success. 
Repeatedly  I  assured  myself  that  I  had  not 
the  least  cause  to  be  disappointed  or  dis 
turbed.  How  could  I  expect,  I  argued 
mentally,  to  find  two  women  astir  at  such 
an  hour,  for  it  was  now  considerably  past 
the  stroke  of  ten !  The  stable  boy,  and  the 
man  who  assisted  Herborn  in  cultivating 
the  place  would  naturally  both  have  retired. 
All  this  was  perfectly  plausible,  but  the 
gloom  would  not  lift,  and  the  fact  that 
there  was  no  longer  a  light  in  the  windows 
of  the  Demooths  added  to  my  dejection. 


242          THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

My  feet  seemed  weighed  down  with  lead, 
and  when  I  reached  the  gateway  of  the 
fort  I  was  ready  to  collapse.  The  sentry 
admitted  me,  and  I  stumbled  to  the  room 
in  the  officers'  quarters  which  Colonel 
Weston  had  been  good  enough  to  place  at 
my  disposal  for  the  night.  There  I  cast 
myself  upon  the  cot  and  slept  the  sleep  of 
sheer  exhaustion. 

My  condition  was  more  normal  when  I 
went  out  beneath  the  sky  of  the  morning. 
It  was  one  of  God's  own  days,  full  of  the 
tonic  of  youth.  From  rim  to  rim  of  the 
heaven  there  was  not  a  film  of  vapor.  In 
the  dewy  fields,  beyond  the  fort  and  the 
houses  of  the  Flatts,  bird  voices  were  rais 
ing  melodious  matins. 

I  joined  several  of  the  officers  at  mess, 
and  received  the  hearty  thanks  of  Colonel 
Weston  for  my  share  in  the  capture  of  the 
previous  evening. 

"  We  shall  wish  your  testimony  when  the 
court-martial  sits,"  concluded  the  Colonel. 

"I  am  wholly  at  your  service,"  said  I. 
"You  will  find  me,  when  you  wish  me,  at 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  243 

my  father's  place.     I  shall  doubtless  go  up 
there  sometime  during  the  day." 

Before  breakfast  was  over  I  grew  uneasy 
to  be  off.  The  calling  of  my  heart  would 
not  let  me  be  still.  Once  a-foot,  I  flung 
out  a  laugh  at  the  remembrance  of  the 
previous  night's  folly  and  fear.  I  swung  on 
toward  the  house  of  the  Demooths,  know 
ing  that  I  was  the  bearer  of  good  news 
from  their  son,  as  blithly  as  ever  sped  the 
bringer  of  joyful  tidings.  I  quite  forgot 
that  I  was  not  supposed  to  be  in  the  land 
of  the  living,  and  when  I  saw  Farmer 
Demooth  ("Farmer"  he  was  often  called, 
although  why  no  one  was  able  to  say)  cross 
ing  the  road  several  yards  in  front  of  me, 
driving  some  of  his  cattle  toward  the  pas 
ture  opposite  the  house,  I  holloaed  to  him 
loudly.  He  stopped  in  mid-road  and  looked 
at  me,  took  a  backward  step,  shaded  his 
eyes  first  with  one  hand  and  then  with 
both,  started  forward  a  few  paces  and  threw 
up  his  arms.  He  was  coatless  and  corpu 
lent,  and  an  on-looker  might  have  fancied 
he  was  about  to  fall  into  some  sort  of  a  fit. 


244  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"I  declare,"  he  cried,  "if  it  isn't  Wilton 
Aubrey!  Why,  lad,  we  thought  you  were 
dead." 

As  I  came  up  he  gave  me  an  honest 
hand-grip,  and  I  knew  he  was  glad  I  was 
in  the  flesh. 

"Come  in!"  said  he,  "come  in!  My 
soul,  what  will  the  women  say!" 

He  allowed  me  no  chance  to  speak,  but 
began  calling  to  his  wife  and  daughter, 
pulling  me  in  the  meanwhile  toward  the 
house. 

"Martha!"  he  shouted,  "Bertha!  see 
who's  come  back  to  life ! " 

Finally  the  two  women  heard  his  cries, 
and  appeared  in  the  doorway,  Bertha 
Demooth  hard  at  her  mother's  heels.  Both 
of  them  regarded  me  in  speechless  amaze 
ment. 

"Arn't  you  glad  to  see  me  again?"  said 
I.  "I  bring  you  good  news  of  John.  I 
left  him  but  a  few  days  ago  in  Fort  Stan- 
wix." 

"John !  Fort  Stanwix ! "  the  three  echoed. 
"You  have  been  there!" 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  245 

Then  they  all  laid  hold  upon  me,  and  I 
must  perforce  go  in  and  relate  to  them  the 
chief  facts  of  my  story,  listen  to  their  ex 
clamations  and  answer  their  questions, 
while  every  moment  of  delay  was  torture 
to  me.  Finally  I  could  bear  it  no  longer, 
and  turned  to  Bertha  Demooth. 

"Margaret,"  said  I,  "what  of  her?" 

"Margaret!"  repeated  she,  "then  you 
don't  know?" 

"Know  what,  in  heaven's  name?"  said 
I,  springing  from  the  chair  in  which  I  had 
been  seated,  an  awful  fear  clutching  at  my 
heart. 

"Why, she's  gone,  she  and  her  mother." 

"Gone!     Where?" 

"We  do  not  know.  It  must  have  been 
a  week  ago,"  said  Bertha,  "that  I  went 
over  to  see  her.  She  had  stopped  coming 
here  because  one  day  she  met  Heinrich. 
Well,  when  I  got  there  I  found  the  house 
closed.  The  man  who  aids  in  the  care  of 
the  place  saw  me  and  told  me  Mrs.  Wells 
and  her  daughter  were  away  on  a  journey. 
He  knew  nothing  of  their  destination,  nor 
how  long  they  intended  to  be  absent." 


246 

"But  Herborn!"  I  exclaimed,  "can  he 
not  conjecture  whither  they  are  bent? 
Surely  there  are  not  many  places  where 
they  would  be  likely  to  go!" 

"Herborn,"  said  Farmer  Demooth,  "has 
never  returned  from  the  battle  of  Oriskany," 

I  was  horrified  at  this  news.  The  awful 
scene  upon  which  I  had  stumbled  in  the 
gray  dawn  rose  before  me,  and  I  shuddered 
at  the  recollection. 

"You  recall,"  pursued  Miss  Demooth, 
"Mrs.  Wells'  reticence  in  regard  to  their 
affairs.  I  have  never  heard  her  utter  a 
syllable  that  would  lead  me  to  think  she 
had  ever  had  any  communication  with  her 
own  or  her  first  husband's  family.  This, 
however,  I  do  know.  A  brother  of  Mr. 
Wells  has  recently  moved  to  some  town 
within  comparatively  easy  traveling  dis 
tance,  for  not  many  days  ago  I  heard 
Margaret  speak  of  him  and  say  they  some 
time  hoped  to  see  him.  But  where  he  has 
settled  I  have  not  the  vaguest  idea,"  and 
the  sympathetic  maiden,  noticing  my  very 
evident  distress,  shook  her  head  sadly. 


THE  SON  OP  A  TORY          247 

Hoping  to  gain  some  crumb  of  comfort, 
I  asked  after  my  beloved's  health,  and  was 
relieved  to  hear  that  she  was  fast  recover 
ing  her  strength.  This  news  gave  me 
considerable  solace,  and  promising  the 
Demooths  that  I  would  drop  in  to  see 
them  often  I  took  my  leave  and  bent  my 
steps  toward  home. 

Cheered  though  I  was  in  a  measure  by 
the  assurance  of  Margaret's  returning  health, 
mine  was  a  mournful  home-coming.  David, 
good,  faithful  soul,  had  cared  for  everything 
with  the  greatest  diligence.  He  alone  of 
all  the  inhabitants  of  the  vicinity  had 
realized  that  the  current  reports  in  regard 
to  my  death  were  not  true,  for  he  well 
knew  that  my  father  would  never  have 
fled  so  suddenly,  whatever  his  own  danger, 
had  I  been  dead.  My  reappearance  seemed 
to  cause  him  little  surprise. 

"I  have  been  waiting  and  watching  for 
you,  sir,"  he  said,  after  our  first  greetings 
were  over,  "  you  and  your  father." 

"Father  will  never  come  again,  David," 
said  I,  "and  I  have  returned  after  a  fashion 
that  would  grieve  him  sorely  were  he  alive." 


248  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

He  seemed  not  to  notice  my  last  words, 
for  he  exclaimed, 

"Ah,  if  we  could  only  have  kept  your 
father  here,  Mr.  Wilton,  perhaps  he  would 
be  spared  to  us  now!" 

"If  we  only  might  have,  David!  but  you 
know  how  impossible  it  was.  It  was  as 
much  as  ever  that  we  restrained  him  as 
long  as  we  did." 

Then  I  told  him  of  my  father's  end  while 
the  tears  gathered  in  his  eyes,  and  trickled 
slowly  down  his  furrowed  cheeks. 

"To  lie  so  far  from  his  own!"  said  he, 
"the  poor  gentleman!" 

"And  his  son  come  back  a  Whig!"  cried 
I.  "  What  would  he  say?" 

And  David,  though  he  loved  the  cause, 
had  nothing  to  reply.  Presently  I  went  in 
and  greeted  Christina  who  wept  over  me ; 
then  I  sat  down  in  my  father's  chair  and 
gazed,  vacant-eyed,  into  the  empty  fire 
place. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

The  Sending  of  Hon  Yost  Schuyler 

HAD  it  not  been  for  David's  assidu 
ous  kindness  during  the  next  few 
days  I  must  have  fallen  into  the 
slough  of  despondency.  He  insisted  upon 
showing  me  minutely  everything  he  had 
done  during  my  absence.  The  barns  were 
visited  and  the  harvest  surveyed.  I  was 
taken  into  the  fields,  and  consulted  in 
regard  to  what  crops  had  best  be  planted 
another  year.  The  cattle  were  viewed  and 
commented  upon  one  by  one.  Then  David 
seemed  to  have  developed  a  keener  interest 
than  he  had  ever  before  shown  in  public 
affairs.  He  would  ask  me  if  I  had  been  at 
the  Flatts  during  the  morning  or  afternoon, 
as  the  hour  chanced,  and  wish  to  know  if 
there  were  any  news  from  Fort  Stanwix, 
or  if  any  word  had  come  from  the  relief 
expedition  which  was  daily  expected  to 
arrive  from  Albany. 

249 


250          THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

His  efforts  to  keep  me  occupied  and  on 
the  move  were  so  transparent  that  I  was 
amused  by  them,  and  allowed  myself  to  be 
led  or  lured  this  way  and  that  with  the  docil 
ity  of  a  child.  My  trips  to  the  Flatts  and  to 
the  fort  really  proved  an  agreeable  diver 
sion.  Captain  Borring  always  greeted  me 
jovially,  and  Colonel  Weston  made  me  feel 
that  I  was  welcome  whenever  I  chose  to  come. 
Thus  nearly  a  week  slipped  away,  and  the 
morning  of  August  20th  dawned  warm  and 
hazy.  It  may  be  surmised  that  during  this 
period  the  thought  of  Margaret  was  well- 
nigh  ever  with  me,  but  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  to  accept  the  inevitable  with  patience, 
encouraged  that  ere  long  my  dream  of  love 
would  come  true.  Somewhere,  I  told  my 
self,  she  was  safe,  with  the  roses  creeping 
back  into  her  cheeks.  Then  I  pictured  how 
the  old  light  of  affection  would  leap  into 
her  eyes  again  when  she  saw  me,  and  knew 
that  it  was  indeed  I  returned  to  the  ways 
of  men.  In  spite  of  past  sorrows  I  had 
times  of  thinking  that  the  world  was  good. 

The  days,  as  I  have  said,  glided  by  until 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  251 

the  20th  of  August  came.  It  was  a 
Wednesday,  for  I  have  a  calendar  of  the 
year  before  me.  I  had  spent  the  early 
hours  of  the  morning  over  some  long 
neglected  accounts,  and  over  the  rough 
memoranda  which  David  had  kept  during 
my  absence,  and  having  reduced  matters 
to  something  approaching  comprehension, 
had  strolled  out  to  my  seat  beneath  the 
pines.  The  air  seemed  filled  with  a  myriad 
dancing  golden  motes;  the  hills  beyond  the 
valley  were  blurred  by  a  faint  amber  veil ; 
the  locusts  were  practising  in  their  sharp 
staccato;  and  not  a  breath  of  any  of  the 
great  winds  of  heaven  was  astir.  It  was 
an  atmosphere  conducive  to  visions, — to 
visions  of  a  happier  time  when  the  wings 
of  peace  should  have  spread  over  this  fair 
vale  of  the  earth;  of  a  time  when  I  should 
not  dwell  alone  in  the  house  which  had 
now  become  mine,  but  when  another  should 
sit  opposite  me  at  the  board,  and  by  my 
side  at  the  hearth,  and  here  with  me  be 
neath  the  grateful  shade  of  the  patriarchal 
pines. 


252          THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

I  was  roused  from  my  delightsome  fore 
cast  by  the  approach  of  a  soldier  who  came 
swinging  along  the  path  across  the  great 
meadow.  As  he  drew  near  the  house  I 
rose  and  went  down  to  meet  him. 

"Mr.  Aubrey,  is  it  not?"  asked  he. 

"Yes,"  I  returned.  "Have  you  any 
message  for  me?" 

"I  have.  General  Arnold  has  arrived, 
and  has  ordered  a  trial  of  Butler  and  his 
associates.  The  court-martial  will  sit  at 
one  o'clock,  and  Colonel  Weston  desires 
that  you  should  be  present." 

"Tell  the  Colonel  that  I  will  be  on  hand." 

The  man  saluted,  and  started  toward  the 
Flatts  at  the  same  rapid  pace  by  which  he 
had  come.  I  watched  him  lazily  till  his 
form  was  no  longer  visible,  and  then  went 
in  to  bid  Christina  prepare  me  an  early 
dinner.  In  the  action  of  the  court-martial 
I  had  no  special  interest,  but  I  was  curious 
to  see  General  Arnold  about  whom  I  had 
heard  much.  Just  at  this  time  he  was  one 
of  the  most  popular  leaders  in  the  army, 
his  intrepidity  and  daring  having  a  great 
influence  among  the  men. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  253 

"When  I  entered  the  mess-room  in  the 
officers'  quarters,  where  the  trial  was  to  be 
held,  the  General  was  not  present,  but  he 
came  in  shortly  with  Colonel  Weston, 
Colonel  Willett  and  several  other  officers, 
and  I  readily  recognized  him  from  descrip 
tions  I  had  heard  of  him.  He  wore  the 
uniform  of  his  rank,  which  was  then  that 
of  a  major-general,  though  he  had  cast 
aside  his  waistcoat  on  account  of  the  heat 
which  seemed  to  affect  him  much.  Al 
though  not  tall,  he  was  what  might  be 
called  largely  made,  his  features  somewhat 
heavy,  his  naturally  dark  skin  several 
shades  darker  than  its  wont  through  ex 
posure.  He  was  impetuous  and  brusque 
in  manner,  and  impressed  me  as  one  who 
would  be  impatient  at  delay  or  interference, 
and  quick  to  resent  an  injury. 

Colonel  Willett  caught  sight  of  me,  and 
hastening  forward  shook  my  hand  heartily, 
expressing  his  regret  that  we  had  been 
separated  the  night  of  our  escape  through 
the  enemy's  lines. 

Come  with  me,"  he  said,  "and  I  will  in 
troduce  you  to  the  General." 


254  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

I  followed  him  and  soon  found  myself  in 
Arnold's  presence. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Aubrey,"  said  he,  when  my 
name  was  mentioned,  "I  have  heard  of  you 
both  from  Colonel  Willett  and  Colonel 
Weston.  You  should  enlist,  sir.  The 
cause  needs  such  enterprising  young  men." 

"I  will  think  of  it,"  said  I. 

"Good!"  he  returned.  "You  ought  to 
have  a  lieutenancy.  If  I  had  any  influence 
in  official  circles,"  he  continued,  somewhat 
bitterly,  "you  should  have  one." 

I  thanked  him  for  his  kind  intentions, 
though  I  could  not  see  how  I  merited  the 
suggested  honor,  and  then  found  a  seat  to 
await  the  action  of  the  tribunal  which  was 
now  quickly  organized.  Arnold  appointed 
Colonel  Willett  Judge  Advocate  of  the 
courtrmartial,  and  though  he  himself  put  a 
few  searching  questions  to  the  prisoners  and 
witnesses,  and  remained  an  absorbed  lis 
tener  to  the  entire  proceedings  he  took  no 
active  part  in  them.  After  the  sentence 
of  death  had  been  pronounced  upon  But 
ler  and  the  other  most  active  Tories  among 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  255 

those  captured,  (a  sentence  which  was  not 
carried  into  execution,  and  more  the  pity 
in  Butler's  case ! )  I  slipped  out  of  the  room 
and  strolled  homeward  deep  in  meditation. 
General  Arnold's  words  were  already  bear 
ing  fruit.  Why  should  I  not  enlist?  I 
asked  myself.  A  call  for  militia  had  that 
very  day  been  issued,  as  more  men  than 
had  been  sent  from  Albany  were  needed 
before  an  advance  could  with  safety  be 
made  to  the  relief  of  Fort  Stanwix.  A 
better  opportunity  to  serve  the  Continental 
cause  could  not  possibly  be  offered;  in  fact 
the  more  I  thought  about  it  the  more  I  was 
convinced  that  duty  summoned  me.  By 
the  time  I  reached  home  my  mind  was 
fully  made  up  that  I  would  enroll  my  name 
of  the  following  morning,  and  I  communi 
cated  my  intention  to  David  whom  I  met 
on  emerging  from  the  great  meadow. 

In  an  instant  the  faithful  servant  was  up 
in  arms.  He  assailed  me  with  all  sorts  of 
arguments  to  induce  me  to  abandon  my 
intention. 

"Let  me  go  in  your  place,  Mr.  Wilton," 
said  he. 


256  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"It  is  not  the  old  fellows  they  want, 
David,"  said  I,  "but  the  young  chaps  who 
have  no  wives  at  home.  Why,  General 
Arnold  himself  advised  me  to  enlist." 

"Confound  General  Arnold!"  cried  he, 
and  his  anxiety  was  so  real,  and  at  the 
same  time  so  comical,  that  I  believe  the 
commander  himself  would  have  laughed 
could  he  have  heard  himself  abused. 

David's  tirades  and  pleadings,  however, 
had  no  effect  upon  me,  and  although  I  did 
not  say  so  to  him  I  was  quite  as  fixed  in 
my  resolution  as  ever.  It  was  exactly 
what  I  needed  to  keep  my  mind  occupied, 
to  take  me  out  of  myself,  and  prevent  me 
from  brooding  upon  Margaret's  absence. 
Perhaps,  I  thought,  by  the  time  the  cam 
paign  is  over  and  the  fort  relieved  Margaret 
will  have  returned,  then — well,  I  will  own 
that  under  those  circumstances  the  idea  of 
an  army  life  had  not  the  same  attractions. 

No  further  words  concerning  the  matter 
passed  between  David  and  myself  that  day, 
and  I  was  careful  not  to  refer  to  it  on  the 
following  morning.  It  was  evident  that  he 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  257 

had  constituted  himself  my  guardian;  he 
seemed  to  think  it  was  a  duty  which  he 
owed  my  father,  and  I  did  not  wish  to  hurt 
the  kind  fellow's  feelings  when  I  could 
easily  avoid  it.  About  ten  o'clock,  David 
having  gone  down  into  the  corn  field,  I  put 
together  a  little  bundle  of  necessaries,  stole 
along  the  meadow  path,  and  was  soon  well 
on  my  way  to  the  Flatts.  As  I  drew  within 
sight  of  the  fort,  I  saw  the  soldier  who  had 
brought  me  the  summons  from  Colonel 
Weston  the  previous  day  hastening  toward 
me. 

"This  meeting  has  saved  me  a  trip  to 
your  home,"  said  he. 

"Ah,"  said  I,  "then  you  were  in  search 
of  me?" 

"Yes,  you  are  wanted  again." 

"Indeed!  I  seem  to  be  very  much  in 
demand." 

We  chatted  together  as  we  walked  to 
ward  the  fort,  and  I  found  the  chief  topic 
of  interest  that  morning  was  a  proclama 
tion  General  Arnold  had  just  issued  as  an 
offset  to  that  which  had  been  widely  dis- 


258  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

tributed  through  the  valley  by  the  emissar 
ies  of  St.  Leger  and  Sir  John  Johnson. 

"Ecod,  sir,"  cried  the  soldier,  "but  the 
General  has  set  forth  Barry  St.  Leger  and 
his  army  in  their  proper  light!" 

And,  in  truth,  when  I  came  to  see  the 
manifesto  I  found  that  there  was  no  mincing 
of  terms.  It  was  purposely  couched  in 
much  the  same  language  as  that  employed 
by  the  British  leaders,  and  characterized 
the  invaders  as  "a  banditti  of  robbers,  mur 
derers,  and  traitors."  Pardon  was  offered 
to  all  concerned  provided  that  within  ten 
days  they  laid  down  their  arms  and  swore 
allegiance  to  the  United  States,  but  it  was 
stated  that  if  they  persisted  in  then*  deter 
mination  to  draw  upon  themselves  the  just 
vengeance  of  heaven  and  the  exasperated 
country,  they  must  expect  no  mercy  from 
either. 

My  conductor  led  me  to  the  scene  of 
the  court-martial  of  the  day  previous, 
and  when  I  entered  the  room  a  curious 
scene  was  being  enacted.  Seated  in  the 
straight-backed  chair  that  had  been  occu- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  259 

pied  by  Colonel  Willett  during  the  trial  of 
the  Tories  was  General  Arnold,  his  brow 
stern  and  his  lips  set.  The  fort  command 
ant  and  several  officers  were  grouped  be 
hind  him;  cowering  upon  a  bench  at  one 
side  was  an  unkempt,  shock-headed  man  in 
middle  life;  guarded  by  two  soldiers,  one 
of  the  condemned  prisoners  leaned  with  an 
air  of  sullen  indifference  against  the  wall 
opposite,  while  in  the  middle  of  the  apart 
ment  stood  a  grotesquely-garbed  woman 
who  was  addressing  the  General  in  the 
most  impassioned  language.  About  her 
face  her  hair  hung  loosely,  and  ever  and 
anon  she  flung  it  back  with  a  toss  of  her 
head,  or  a  wave  of  her  hand.  There  was 
that  in  her  countenance  which  held  the 
attention,  a  certain  magic  in  her  eye,  faded, 
yet  suddenly  kindling  into  unexpected  fire. 

Her  plea  seemed  to  be  almost  at  an  end, 
and  there  was  no  sign  of  mercy  on  Arnold's 
face. 

"My  God,  sir,"  she  all  at  once  burst  out, 
"  have  you  no  f eeling  that  you  can  see  a 
mother  suffer  as  I  am  suffering?  Is  there 


260  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

no  pity  in  you  ?  There  is  nothing  that  I 
will  not  do  if  you  will  but  have  the  awful 
sentence  unsaid." 

"There  is  nothing  you  can  do,  woman," 
said  the  General,  but  your  son  can  save 
himself  if  he  will." 

"How,  sir,  how?"  cried  the  distraught 
mother.  "  Let  me  hear  what  he  must  do. 
I  will  be  a  surety  that  he  will  perform 
whatever  task  you  set  him.  I  will  put 
myself  into  your  custody  until  it  is  done." 

"We  wish  no  women  for  hostages,"  said 
Arnold  coldly. 

The  mother  turned  to  the  man  seated 
upon  the  bench. 

"Will  you  not  be  surety  for  your  brother, 
Nicholas?"  said  she  beseechingly. 

The  fellow  hesitated,  glanced  at  his 
seemingly  half-stupid  brother  as  much  as 
to  say  that  he  was  not  worth  the  trouble 
they  were  taking  in  his  behalf,  and  finally 
gruffly  signified  his  assent. 

"There,  sir,  you  hear;  he  consents,"  the 
mother  exclaimed.  "  Now  what  service  must 
my  son,  who  is  your  prisoner,  perform?" 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  261 

"Stand  forth,  Hon  Yost  Schuyler,"  said 
the  General,  leaning  forward  in  his  chair, 
"and  listen  well.  You  will  leave  this  place 
shortly  after  noon  to-day,  and  proceed  in 
the  direction  of  Fort  Stanwix.  As  soon  as 
you  arrive  in  that  vicinity  you  will  enter 
the  British  lines  and  tell  them,  whether  it 
be  Indians,  Tories,  or  the  British  themselves 
whom  you  see,  that  I  am  rapidly  approach 
ing  with  an  overwhelming  force  to  raise 
the  siege.  In  short,  it  is  to  be  your  duty 
so  to  alarm  our  enemies  in  regard  to  our 
numbers  and  to  the  proximity  of  our  army 
that  they  will  retreat  forthwith.  In  this 
undertaking  you  shall  have  the  assistance 
of  the  Oneida  chief,  Singing  Arrow,  who  is 
known  to  you.  Before  you  arrive  at  Fort 
Stanwix  he  will  separate  from  you,  enter 
the  camp  at  a  different  point,  and  bear  wit 
ness  to  the  truth  of  your  tale.  If  you  are 
successful,  upon  your  return  both  you  and 
your  brother  shall  go  free,  but  if  you  play 
us  false  there  is  no  power  on  earth  that 
will  save  your  brother  from  the  rope  and 
the  gallows." 


262  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

During  Arnold's  speech  the  prisoner  had 
stood  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  floor,  his  coun 
tenance  absolutely  void  of  expression.  When 
the  commander  had  done,  however,  he  lifted 
his  gaze  for  an  instant  and  said: 

"I  will  undertake  what  you  demand." 

"He  will  succeed,  sir,  never  fear,"  cried 
his  mother,  with  all  a  parent's  confidence, 
but  most  of  those  present  showed  plainly 
upon  their  faces  that  they  doubted  the  suc 
cess  of  the  ruse  de  guerre. 

"It  is  at  least  worth  trying,  gentlemen," 
said  Arnold,  in  reply  to  the  officers'  un 
spoken  misgivings,  Nicholas  having  been 
taken  into  custody,  and  Hon  Yost  removed 
from  the  room. 

I  now  began  to  wonder  why  I  had  been 
summoned,  and  if  I  were  to  have  any  part 
in  the  acting  of  this  drama,  to  the  prologue 
of  which  I  had  been  a  witness. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

How  the  Ruse  de  Guerre  Succeeded 


I 


officers    were    beginning    to 
leave  when  Colonel  Willet  came 
quickly    toward    where    I    was 
seated. 

"You  see,"  I  said,  rising  as  he  drew  near, 
"that  I  have  given  ear  to  the  General's 
admonition.  I  have  come  to  enlist." 

"You  can  do  far  more  important  service 
outside  the  ranks  than  in  them,"  said  he, 
"if  you  are  willing  to  undertake  what  the 
General  has  in  mind." 

"What  is  that?" 

"Step  this  way,  and  he  will  tell  you 
himself." 

I  glanced  toward  Arnold,  and  remarked 
that  he  was  awaiting  us. 

"I  am  glad  you  are  here,  Mr.  Aubrey," 
he  exclaimed  cordially.  "You  must  have 
anticipated  my  messenger.  I  noticed  you 
when  you  entered  the  room." 

263 


264  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  "I  was  but  a  few  hun 
dred  yards  from  the  fort  when  I  received 
your  summons.  I  was  on  my  way  to  en 
list,  as  I  just  told  Colonel  Willett." 

The  General  was  evidently  pleased  at 
this  announcement. 

"In  that  case,"  said  he,  "I  hope  I  can 
prevail  upon  you  to  accept  a  somewhat 
delicate  and  dangerous  mission.  You  heard 
my  words  to  that  seemingly  thick-headed 
Tory  yonder?  Mark  you,  the  fellow  is 
keener  witted  than  he  appears  to  be! 
Well,  what  I  desire  is  this, — a  man  who 
will  accompany  Hon  Yost  Schuyler,  see 
that  he  enters  the  British  encampment, 
then,  lying  in  wait  till  night  if  need  be, 
endeavor  to  get  through  the  lines  into  the 
fort  and  deliver  a  message  to  Colonel  Gan- 
sevoort.  You  know  the  ground, — that  is 
why  I  have  appealed  to  you  before  disclos 
ing  my  wish  to  any  other.  You  also  know 
the  risks  to  be  run.  Will  you  make  the 
attempt?" 

"I  will,"  said  I,  without  an  instant's 
hesitation,  greatly  flattered  by  the  confi 
dence  he  was  imposing  in  me. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  265 

"Good!"  cried  he,  rubbing  his  hands 
with  satisfaction.  "Excellent!  Be  pre 
pared  to  start  as  soon  as  you  have  had  your 
dinner.  I  will  give  you  your  final  instruc 
tions  just  before  you  leave.  The  interven 
ing  time  is  at  your  disposal." 

He  left  us  in  the  best  of  humors,  and 
having  received  Colonel  Willett's  congratu 
lations  on  my  prompt  agreement  to  under 
take  the  perilous  mission,  and  accepted  an 
invitation  to  dine  at  his  table,  I  went  out 
with  the  intention  of  calling  on  the 
Demooths.  It  was  two  days  since  I  had 
been  at  their  house,  and  before  starting 
upon  so  hazardous  an  enterprise  I  wished 
to  make  sure  that  by  no  chance  a  missive 
from  Margaret  had  been  received  by  Bertha 
Demooth. 

So  far  as  news  was  concerned  I  gained 
no  satisfaction  from  my  call.  Bidding  the 
Demooths  adieu  with  the  mystifying  remark 
that  I  would  report  to  John  that  all  was 
well  with  them,  I  sauntered  on  toward 
Margaret's  home.  Here  so  depressing  a 
quiet  reigned  that  I  was  sorry  I  had  visited 


266  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

the  place,  and  hastened  back  to  the  fort 
and  the  society  of  Captain  Borring  to  keep 
my  spirits  from  drooping.  This,  of  all 
times,  was  the  occasion  for  avoiding  the 
devil  of  low-heartedness. 

Dinner  over,  I  was  summoned  into  the 
presence  of  General  Arnold. 

"You  are  to  tell  Colonel  Gansevoort," 
said  he,  "that  I  shall  move  to  his  relief  as 
soon  as  my  forces  are  swelled  to  a  size 
sufficient  to  warrant  my  doing  so.  This,  I 
have  every  reason  to  believe,  will  be  in  a 
few  days.  Bid  him  not  lose  courage,  for 
if  I  discover  from  Indian  spies,  who  are 
constantly  on  the  watch,  that  he  is  in  imme 
diate  danger,  I  will  hasten  to  his  assistance 
at  once,  venturesome  as  such  a  course  would 
be.  A  bold  man  knows  when  to  be  cau 
tious,  so  I  need  not  warn  you,  nor  will  I 
venture  to  offer  any  suggestions  in  regard 
to  your  plan  of  procedure.  You  can  best 
shape  that  for  yourself.  I  have  nothing 
more  to  say,  save  to  wish  you  every 
success." 

He  gave  me  his  hand,  then  I  went  out  to 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY          267 

find  my  companions.  They  were  awaiting 
me  by  the  fort  gateway,  and  Colonel  Wil- 
let,  Captain  Borring  and  several  others 
were  standing  by  to  bid  me  God-speed. 

It  was  a  cool  day  for  August.  A  gusty 
wind  out  of  the  northwest  was  blowing 
among  the  hills,  ever  and  anon  swooping 
down  into  the  valley  to  crisp  the  river 
reaches  and  cause  a  deep  murmur  in  the 
forest. 

To  give  color  to  the  tale  which  he  was 
to  tell  in  regard  to  his  escape  from  the 
hands  of  the  Continentals,  Hon  Yost's 
clothes  had,  in  a  number  of  places,  been 
perforated  by  bullets.  He  was  little  in 
clined  to  talk  at  first,  and  as  the  Indian  had 
but  small  knowledge  of  English  the  early 
hours  of  our  journey  were  passed  in  silence, 
save  for  an  occasional  interchange  of  com 
ments  in  the  Indian  tongue  between  my 
two  companions.  Toward  mid-afternoon, 
however,  when  I  proposed  that  we  should 
pause  for  a  smoke  (there  was  no  need  for 
especial  haste,  as  the  morning  of  the  day 
following  was  the  time  Hon  Yost  had  been 


268  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

ordered  to  try  his  ruse),  the  Tory  shed  in  a 
measure  his  sullenness  and  taciturnity,  and 
surprised  me  by  his  shrewdness.  Under  a 
most  unprepossessing  exterior  (the  man  at 
times  having  the  air  of  one  half-witted)  was 
hidden  a  vast  deal  of  keen  common  sense. 
As  for  his  knowledge  of  the  woods,  of 
beast  and  bird,  of  signs  in  the  sky,  it  was 
every  whit  as  intimate  as  that  of  the  Indian. 
We  lay  that  night  in  a  sheltered  hollow 
below  the  road  where  the  force  of  the  wind, 
which  was  still  blowing,  did  not  reach  us. 
We  were  now  within  ten  miles  of  Fort 
Stanwix,  and  as  I  had  no  knowledge  how 
close  a  watch  the  British  might  be  keeping, 
I  counselled  the  greatest  caution  in  our  for 
ward  movements.  Accordingly  the  next 
morning,  after  we  had  passed  the  gruesome 
battle-field  of  Oriskany,  we  struck  down 
into  the  bottom  lands  and  followed  more 
closely  the  course  of  the  river.  By  ten 
o'clock  we  were  within  a  mile  of  the  fort. 
Here  Hon  Yost  and  the  Indian  proposed 
parting  company,  and  as  I  had  not  indicated 
to  them  just  what  my  purpose  was  they 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  269 

looked  at  me  askance  as  much  as  to  say  — 
you  can  do  what  you  please.  There  had 
been  all  the  time  in  their  manner  toward 
me  a  touch  of  resentment,  as  though  they 
felt  that  I  was  with  them  to  spy  upon  then- 
movements,  and  I  could  see  that  they  were 
glad  that  the  hour  had  come  when  they 
thought  they  were  to  be  rid  of  me. 

Singing  Arrow  with  a  grunt  and  a  nod 
to  the  Tory,  and  the  semblance  of  a  grin 
at  me,  took  himself  off  into  the  thicket  on 
the  right,  while  Hon  Yost  turned  his  back 
upon  me,  and  moved  forward  in  the  direc 
tion  we  had  been  pursuing.  Without  com 
ment  I  followed  him.  We  had  proceeded 
perhaps  two  hundred  yards  in  this  fashion, 
when  suddenly  he  wheeled  upon  me. 

"Hell's  fire!"  he  broke  out,  "how  long 
am  I  to  have  you  dogging  my  steps?  If  it 
were  n't  for  the  old  woman  and  that  brother 
o'  mine  back  there  at  Fort  Dayton  I  'd  'ave 
slit  your  pretty  wizand  for  you  long  ago, 
and,  by  God,  if  you  don't  sheer  off  on 
another  trail  I'll  do  it  anyhow." 

I  had  no  desire  to  exasperate  the  man, 


270  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

and  as  I  descried  a  mound  hard  by  where 
grew  a  tall  hemlock  which  I  was  aware 
must  command  a  wide  sweep  of  country,  I 
replied  without  the  least  show  of  resent 
ment, 

"I'm  very  happy  to  oblige  you.  I  cer 
tainly  have  no  wish  to  burden  you  with 
my  society." 

This  said,  I  sat  down  upon  a  fallen  tree. 
He  was  at  loss  how  to  take  my  cool  way 
of  treating  his  outburst,  growled  out  some 
thing  beneath  his  breath,  eyed  me  for  a 
brief  space  doubtfully,  and  finally  left  me 
to  myself  in  the  stillness  of  the  open  wood. 
I  watched  him  disappear,  waited  perhaps 
ten  minutes,  and  then  sought  the  hemlock 
which  I  hastened  to  climb.  It  was  clear 
enough  that  Hon  Yost  was  bent  upon  seek 
ing  the  encampment  of  the  British,  with 
what  purpose  remained  to  be  seen. 

As  I  had  fancied,  my  post  of  vantage, 
while  it  did  not  afford  a  view  of  the 
fort  itself,  gave  me  a  chance  to  observe 
much  of  the  cleared  land  about  it,  and  I 
remained  perched  in  the  tree  top  until  I 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  271 

had  marked  the  Tory  cross  one  of  the 
meadow  spaces  far  ahead,  and  noted  that  his 
steps  were  still  bent  in  the  direction  of  the 
carrying-place.  As  I  descended  to  the 
ground  I  heard  the  loud  booming  of  guns, 
a  sound  that  very  shortly  increased  in 
volume  so  that  I  made  up  my  mind  a 
general  artillery  engagement  must  be  in 
progress.  I  now  resolved  to  put  myself 
into  a  position  to  carry  out  my  own  plan 
when  the  right  hour  should  arrive.  What 
I  intended  to  do  was  simple.  I  had  thought 
it  all  out  as  I  lay  listening  to  the  soughing 
of  the  wind  the  night  before.  I  would 
cross  the  river,  strike  out  in  a  slightly 
north-easterly  direction  through  the  dense 
forest  on  the  opposite  shore,  emerge  upon 
the  Mohawk  (which  here  takes  a  wide  bend) 
above  the  British  earthworks  on  one  hand 
and  the  Indian  encampment  on  the  other, 
then,  when  night  fell,  float  down  with  a  log, 
as  I  had  done  previously,  land  opposite  the 
sally-port,  and  through  it  gain  entrance  to 
the  fort. 

I  resolved  to  run  no  risk  of  being  ob- 


272  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

served,  and  so  instead  of  crossing  the  river 
at  a  point  near  at  hand,  I  retraced  my  steps 
for  half  a  mile,  removed  my  clothes,  tied 
them  to  a  pole,  and  without  much  difficulty 
gained  the  other  shore.  While  I  was  dry 
ing  myself  in  the  sun  I  began  to  feel 
drowsy,  and  knowing  that  the  whole  day 
was  before  me  I  resolved  to  rest  for  a  few 
hours.  Accordingly  after  I  had  dressed 
and  refreshed  myself  with  the  simple  fare 
with  which  I  had  been  provided,  I  found  a 
dry  spot  in  the  long  marsh  grass,  stretched 
myself  out,  and  was  soon  drifting  across 
the  sea  of  dreams.  It  was  mid-after-noon 
when  I  wakened,  and  I  made  haste  to  bestir 
myself.  The  course  which  I  must  pursue 
to  reach  the  desired  point  led  me  through 
a  low  woodland  where  the  sunlight  never 
penetrated.  It  was  boggy  under  foot; 
vines  were  festooned  from  bough  to  bough; 
creepers  covered  the  fallen  logs  and  rioted 
upon  the  frequent  hummocks ;  and  there 
were  pools  hidden  by  a  viscid  coating  of 
green  lying  in  wait  for  the  unwary. 
It  was  the  haunt  of  strange  birds,  of  the 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  273 

panther  and  the  bear,  and  of  many  deadly 
crawling  things. 

I  was  fortunate  in  having  a  compass  in 
my  pocket  so  I  had  no  fear  of  losing  my 
self  in  the  waste.  My  progress,  however, 
was  of  necessity  slow,  and  I  calculated  that 
it  would  take  me  at  least  an  hour  and  a 
half  to  penetrate  to  the  river.  I  was  pick 
ing  my  way  with  great  care,  testing  the 
ground  at  nearly  every  step  with  a  long 
staff  I  had  cut  before  venturing  to  advance, 
when  on  a  sudden  I  was  aware  that  there 
was  some  one  close  at  hand,  so  near  indeed 
that  there  was  hardly  tune  for  concealment. 
I  tried  to  force  myself  in  among  the  branches 
of  a  low  cedar,  but  ere  I  had  succeeded  in 
so  doing  the  boughs  parted,  and  the  un 
known  and  I  stood  face  to  face. 

Amazement  held  me  speechless.  Emaci 
ated  and  haggard-eyed,  his  clothes  dripping 
and  mud-dabbled,  his  hair  hanging  in  matted 
elf-locks, — in  this  deplorable  condition 
though  he  was,  I  recognized  the  man  in 
stantly.  It  was  Heinrich  Herborn.  Instead 
of  being  dead  as  was  supposed,  he  had  been 


274  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

taken  prisoner  at  the  battle  of  Oriskany  (as 
I  learned  presently),  and  had  just  escaped. 

The  light  where  we  were  standing  was 
dim,  and  as  he  gazed  at  me,  half  concealed 
by  the  cedar  branches,  I  saw  a  fit  of  shiver 
ing  seize  him.  It  was  as  though  he  was  in 
the  grip  of  an  ague. 

"In  God's  name,"  cried  he,  in  a  hollow 
voice,  "what  man  are  you?" 

"I  am  that  one,"  said  I,  "whom  you 
would  have  for  an  enemy  against  his  will." 

"Impossible!"  he  ejaculated,  "Wilton 
Aubrey  must  have  a  brother,  or  a  double!" 

"He  has  neither  to  my  knowledge,"  said 
I,  "and  I  am  Wilton  Aubrey." 

"  Not  unless  the  age  of  miracles  has 
returned,"  he  exclaimed,  still  but  half  con 
vinced.  "How  can  I  believe  you  are  he 
when  his  drowning  cries  are  yet  ringing  in 
my  ears!" 

"My  dear  Herborn,"  said  I,  laughing, 
"  you  never  heard  his  drowning  cries,  for 
while  you  were  listening  to  what  you  sup 
posed  were  those  sounds  he  was  lying  con 
cealed  beneath  the  bank  not  a  dozen  feet 
from  where  you  were  standing." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  275 

He  now  came  forward  with  extended 
hand. 

"Aubrey,"  said  he,  "I'm  my  own  man 
again!" 

"The  past  is  past,"  said  I,  "and  I  don't 
harbor  the  slightest  grudge  for  what 
happened." 

"Nor  I,"  he  returned,  with  a  wan  smile ; 
"you  gave  me  a  pretty  severe  handling 
that  night  in  front  of  Bellinger's  store,  you 
know."  He  staggered  and  would  have 
fallen  had  I  not  steadied  him. 

"Why,  man,"  I  cried,  "what  is  it?" 

"I'm  exhausted,"  he  answered  weakly, 
"I've  had  little  to  eat  for  days." 

I  pulled  from  my  pocket  the  remainder 
of  my  provender,  and  when  he  had  eaten 
this,  and  had  taken  a  good  pull  from  my 
flask  he  declared  that  he  was  ready  for 
anything. 

"There  is  no  great  haste,"  said  I,  "sup 
pose  we  talk  a  bit  before  we  go  on." 

"Agreed.  I  confess  I'm  vastly  curious 
to  know  what,  in  heaven's  name,  you  are 
doing  in  this  infernal  waste." 


276  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

"I  shall  be  most  delighted  to  tell  you 
after  you  have  answered  one  question." 

"You  have  but  to  put  it  to  me." 

At  this  I  informed  him  of  the  sudden 
departure  of  his  mother  and  sister  from  the 
Flatts,  and  told  him  that  they  had  left  no 
clue  in  regard  to  their  destination. 

"Can  you  imagine  where  they  have 
gone?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,"  he  answered  gloomily,  realizing 
that  he  was  indirectly  the  cause  of  their 
departure.  "  Without  doubt  it  is  to  Albany, 
for  a  brother  of  my  step-father  has  very 
recently  settled  there,  coming  from  Raw- 
don  in  the  Carolinas." 

My  heart  gave  a  great  bound  of  joy  at 
this  news. 

"Will  you  go  to  Albany  with  me  after  [ 
have  accomplished  my  mission  here?"  I 
said  eagerly.  "I  think  we  can  set  every 
thing  to  rights  now." 

"I  will  go  with  you  gladly,"  he  answered. 

I  then  revealed  to  him  what  I  had  been 
sent  to,  do,  and  related  to  him  incidentally 
some  of  my  experiences  since  the  memor- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  277 

able  night  by  the  Slanting  Waters.  He  in 
his  turn  spoke  of  his  capture  and  captivity, 
and  then  went  on  to  tell  me  of  his  escape. 

"I  had  quite  abandoned  all  hope  of  get 
ting  away,"  he  said,  "we  were  so  closely 
guarded,  and  had  concluded  that  I  was 
fated  to  endure  a  long  term  of  confinement 
at  Montreal  or  Quebec,  unless  in  the  mean- 
tune  the  Indians  became  unruly  and  mas 
sacred  all  the  prisoners,  when  about  an 
hour  ago  there  was  a  sudden  commotion  in 
camp.  Officers  and  men  went  rushing  to 
and  fro,  the  Indians  set  up  a  great  shouting 
and  hooting,  in  fact  a  general  confusion 
prevailed.  Very  soon  it  became  evident 
that  a  retreat  had  been  ordered." 

"A  retreat! "  I  cried,  in  exultation,  "then 
General  Arnold's  ruse  has  succeeded!" 

"I  believe  it  has,"  said  Heinrich.  "Well, 
in  the  hubbub  our  guard  grew  careless,  and 
as  we  were  being  marched  from  the  spot 
where  we  had  been  kept  in  bonds  I  managed 
to  slip  out  of  the  lines  into  the  adjoin 
ing  underbrush.  Once  in  the  wood  I  ran 
at  the  top  of  my  speed  toward  the  river. 


278  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

My  absence  was  soon  discovered  and  the 
chase  was  hot,  but  I  was  fortunate  enough 
to  escape  the  bullets  sent  after  me,  gained 
this  side  of  the  stream,  and  behold,  here  I 
am!" 

"  But  there  are  two  Indian  encampments 
on  this  bank!"  I  exclaimed. 

"I  saw  no  Indians." 

"Then  they  must  have  withdrawn. 
Come,  let's  hasten  forward  and  see!" 

Herborn  caught  some  of  my  spirit,  and 
away  we  went  at  a  reckless  pace,  leaping 
from  log  to  log,  plunging  through  thickets, 
tripping,  panting,  perspiring,  until  we 
emerged  in  a  little  open  space  on  the 
river  bank.  Beyond  the  stream  and  the 
marsh  through  which  I  had  threaded  my 
way  the  evening  I  had  vainly  tried  to  gain 
entrance  to  the  fort,  on  the  high  ground 
where  the  batteries  of  St.  Leger  were  lo 
cated,  we  could  decry  several  soldiers 
making  frantic  efforts  to  dismount  a 
cannon. 

"It  is  true! "  I  cried,  in  glee,  "they  are 
raising  the  siege! " 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  279 

Along  the  bank  of  the  river  we  pressed 
to  where  the  Indians  had  bivouaced,  to  find 
only  the  smouldering  remains  of  their 
camp-fires. 

"  A  canoe/'  said  I,  "  perhaps  we  can  find 
a  canoe ! " 

Presently  a  shout  from  Herborn  told  me 
that  he  had  succeeded.  We  sprang  in  and 
my  companion  grasped  the  paddle.  A  few 
strokes  and  we  were  in  mid-stream.  Before 
we  could  land,  outcries  from  Sir  John  John 
son's  intrenchmente  informed  us  that  we 
had  been  seen.  About  the  same  time  we 
heard  shouts  of  encouragement  from  the 
fort,  for  I  had  been  waving  my  handker 
chief  lustily.  A  number  of  shots  were 
fired,  but  none  of  the  bullets  came  near 
us.  We  leaped  ashore,  and,  stooping  low, 
ran  swiftly  in  the  direction  of  the  sally-port 
where,  in  a  few  seconds,  we  were  safe. 

"The  British  are  retreating!"  cried  I, 
addressing  the  first  officer  whom  we  met. 

"Retreating!"  echoed  he  increduously. 

"Yes,  the  Indians  have  already  broken 
camp  yonder  beyond  the  river." 


280  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

He  rushed  off  to  the  ramparts,  while  I 
hailed  a  private  soldier  and  bade  him  con 
duct  me  to  Colonel  Gansevoort.  Although 
the  seeming  success  of  the  General's  ruse 
rendered  my  report  unnecessary,  I  felt  it 
my  duty  to  pay  my  respects  to  the  com 
mandant,  and,  moreover,  had  we  not  news 
infinitely  more  welcome  than  that  which  I 
had  set  out  to  convey?  My  interview  with 
Colonel  Gansevoort  off  my  mind  there 
would  remain  nothing  of  public  import  for 
me  to  contemplate,  and  I  should  be  left  free 
to  dwell  upon  my  visions  of  future  bliss. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

7%e  Quest  for  Margaret 

An  hour  after  our  arrival,  Colonel  Ganse- 
voort  made  bold  to  dispatch  a  small  force 
to  ascertain,  if  possible,  to  what  extent  the 
enemy  had  withdrawn.  Musket  and  can 
non  alike  had  been  for  some  time  silent, 
and  upon  the  borders  of  the  woods  no 
Indians  had  been  seen,  yet  it  might  be  that 
St.  Leger  in  turn  was  practicing  a  clever  bit 
of  stratagem,  and  the  commandant  did  not 
deem  it  wise  to  take  any  chances  of  falling 
into  a  trap.  Very  soon,  however,  the 
scouts  brought  the  information  that  the 
entire  British  camp  was  deserted,  and  that 
the  foe,  such  was  their  haste,  had  left  behind 
them  their  tents,  a  large  portion  of  their 
provisions,  their  artillery,  their  ammunition, 
and  nearly  their  entire  camp  equipage. 

An  expedition  was  at  once  organized  to 
harass  the  rear  of  the  retreating  army,  but 
with  such  precipitation  had  St.  Leger  and 

281 


282  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

his  savage  allies  fled  that  only  a  few  strag 
glers  were  captured.  A  large  quantity  of 
spoil,  however,  was  taken,  for  the  soldiers 
in  their  panic  had  cast  aside  everything 
that  in  the  least  encumbered  their  move 
ments. 

One  of  the  prisoners  was  called  before 
Colonel  Gansevoort,  and  from  him  we 
learned  in  detail  how  the  retreat  had  been 
caused. 

"You  see,  sir,  it  was  like  this,"  said  the 
fellow,  who  was  a  Canadian  militia-man. 
"About  noon  there  came  a  man  into  the 
Indian  camp  who  told  how  he  had  just  es 
caped  from  imprisonment  at  the  risk  of  his 
life,  indeed,  his  clothes  were  all  shot  full  of 
bullet  holes  for  I  saw  them  myself  after 
ward.  He  also  related  how  he  had  traveled 
at  the  top  of  his  speed  all  night  for  the 
purpose  of  warning  us  of  the  approach  of 
an  overwhelming  force  of  Continentals 
under  General  Arnold.  When  questioned 
in  regard  to  the  number  of  those  approach 
ing,  he  answered  by  pointing  to  the  leaves 
upon  the  trees.  The  chiefs,  who  were  dis- 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  283 

satisfied  with  the  slowness  of  the  siege,  and 
were  still  sore  over  their  losses  at  the  battle 
that  was  fought  two  weeks  and  more  since, 
had  just  been  holding  a  pow-wow,  and  were 
greatly  stirred  up  over  the  tidings.  They 
fell  to  discussing  the  matter,  and  while  thus 
engaged  an  Indian  arrived  confirming  what 
the  white  man,  who  turned  out  to  be  a 
Mohawk  Valley  Tory,  had  stated.  A  rumor 
of  the  Tory's  report  spread  through  the 
camp,  and  came  to  the  ears  of  St.  Leger 
and  Sir  John  Johnson.  It  is  said  they 
called  a  council  of  war  at  which  they  inter 
rogated  the  bearer  of  the  news,  and  while 
this  council  was  in  progress  there  arose  an 
outcry  somewhere  in  the  camp,  "they  are 
coming  I  they  are  coming  / "  I  cannot 
swear  if  this  be  true,  but  I  know  that  orders 
for  retreat  were  suddenly  given,  and  that 
we  poor  fellows  who  were  commanded  to 
cover  the  rear  wished  we  were  well  out  of 
it,  for  believe  me,  sir,  we  had  cause  to  fear 
the  savages  who  were  supposed  to  be  our 
friends  quite  as  much  as  we  had  the  foe 
that  was  reported  to  be  hard  upon  us," 


284  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Early  in  the  evening  Hon  Yost  himself 
arrived  at  the  fort,  having  accompanied  the 
discomforted  British  as  far  as  the  mouth  of 
Wood  Creek  and  then  deserted,  but  from 
him  we  were  able  to  extract  little  additional 
information.  The  main  fact,  however,  re 
mained.  General  Arnold's  ruse  had  suc 
ceeded,  one  part  of  the  carefully  planned 
scheme  of  the  British  ministry  had  been 
foiled,  and  Burgoyne  would  look  in  vain 
for  aid  from  St.  Leger,  assistance  upon 
which  he  had  counted  so  much. 

My  anxiety  was  now  at  an  end,  and  it 
was  in  the  blithest  mood  that  I  set  out  for 
the  Flatts  on  the  following  morning  in 
company  with  Heinrich,  John  Demooth, 
and  a  messenger  whom  Colonel  Gansevoort 
was  dispatching  to  General  Arnold.  We 
encountered  the  General  toward  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon,  he  having  learned  that 
St.  Leger  had  advanced  his  trenches  to 
within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  fort,  and 
having  in  consequence  decided  to  push  for 
ward  with  what  men  were  available  and 
risk  an  engagement  rather  than  have  the 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  285 

fort  fall  without  having  made  an  effort  for 
its  relief.  Arnold  was  naturally  rejoiced 
at  the  news  we  brought  him,  and  at  once 
ordered  nine  hundred  men  to  hurry  forward 
by  a  forced  march,  in  the  hope  of  joining 
with  some  of  the  garrison  and  giving  active 
pursuit  to  the  fleeing  British.  Although 
my  endeavors  to  aid  the  cause  had  been  of 
no  material  assistance,  the  General  was 
good  enough  to  compliment  me  highly, 
and  reverted  to  the  lieutenancy  he  had 
mentioned  at  our  first  meeting,  saying  he 
should  not  forget  my  name  when  he  made 
his  report  to  General  Gates  who  had  re 
cently  superceded  General  Schuyler  in  com 
mand  of  the  army  of  the  north.  Later 
when  the  dark  days  came,  and  men  on  all 
sides  were  execrating  Arnold's  name,  as, 
indeed,  was  no  more  than  natural  and  just, 
I  could  but  feel  the  sincerest  pity  and  re 
gret  that  so  brave  and  capable  a  soldier, 
one  who  inspired  such  courage  and  confid 
ence  among  the  men,  should  have  digged 
for  himself  so  deep  a  pit  of  ignominy  and 
shame. 


286  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Certainly  the  skies  were  beginning  to 
look  fair  for  me  once  more,  and  I  had  good 
cause  to  feel  elated.  Was  I  not  soon  to  see 
the  one  who  had  grown  dearer  and  yet 
more  dear  through  the  lengthening  days  of 
our  separation,  and  did  I  not  behold  open 
ing  before  me,  should  I  choose  to  follow  it, 
a  career  in  the  service  of  freedom  and  of 
the  land  which  I  called  my  own  ? 

The  evening  was  well  advanced  when  we 
reached  the  Flatts,  three  happy  yet  footsore 
wayfarers.  David  made  a  great  to-do  over 
my  return,  and  forebore  to  upbraid  me  for 
the  manner  in  which  I  had  left  him,  which, 
when  I  considered  his  natural  inclinations, 
appeared  to  me  remarkably  considerate.  I 
had  insisted  that  Heinrich  accompany  me 
home,  and  we  spent  the  day  following  our 
return  in  taking  a  much  needed  rest,  and 
in  making  preparations  for  our  Albany 
journey.  Not  desiring  to  pain  David  a 
second  time,  I  confided  to  him  for  what 
purpose  we  were  going,  and  was  both 
amused  and  caused  to  feel  a  trifle  foolish 
by  having  him  bestow  his  blessing  upon  me. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  287 

Of  our  experiences  upon  the  road  there 
is  little  to  tell.  We  were  occasionally 
halted  by  some  good  patriot,  anxious  to 
learn  if  we  had  any  news  in  regard  to  the 
success  of  Arnold's  mission,  and  were  de 
layed  a  considerable  time  the  second  day 
by  the  violent  bluster  of  a  storm  which  put 
the  highway  in  a  most  deplorable  condition. 
Not  until  toward  noon  of  the  third  day, 
after  having  crossed  a  most  desolate  and 
sandy  waste  of  upland,  did  we  perceive 
that  we  were  approaching  Albany.  Now 
the  terror  of  Burgoyne's  threatened  inva 
sion  began  to  be  apparent  for  we  en 
countered  whole  households  bearing  with 
them,  upon  huge  farm  wagons,  all  their 
possessions  that  it  was  possible  to  carry. 
There  were  dogged,  gaunt^eyed  men  driving 
herds  of  cattle,  dejected  women  riding 
astride,  children  afoot  or  clinging  behind 
their  parents,  — in  short  it  was  a  spectacle 
to  stir  both  pity  and  indignation, — pity  for 
the  wretched  folk  forced  to  leave  their 
homes,  and  indignation  against  the  unfeel 
ing  invaders. 


288  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

I  foresaw  that  the  town  was  likely  to  be 
much  crowded,  and  began  to  fear  that  we 
might  find  difficulty  in  obtaining  lodgings. 
On  applying,  however,  to  Mr.  Robert  Lewis 
who  kept  the  chief  inn,  situated  upon  the 
southeastern  corner  of  State  Street  at  its 
junction  with  Pearl,  we  were  much  grati 
fied  to  discover  that  he  could  favor  us  with 
a  little  room  high  under  the  sharp  gable  of 
the  roof,  and  also,  although  his  own  stable 
was  full,  that  he  could  manage  to  see  our 
horses  were  well  provided. 

Having  refreshed  ourselves  with  a 
draught  of  ale,  for  the  morning  had  been 
wearisome  and  the  sand  had  irritated  our 
throats,  we  bore  our  belongings  to  our 
diminutive  apartment  and  fell  to  making 
ourselves  presentable.  The  clatter  of  dishes 
rang  through  the  long,  low  dining-room  as 
we  entered,  and  with  this  noise  rose  the 
hurly-burly  of  many  men's  voices,  for, 
save  for  the  waiting-maids,  there  was  not 
a  woman  in  the  place.  We  were  assigned 
to  a  table  where  a  somewhat  thin-faced,  yet 
kindly-eyed  man  in  clerical  black,  with  a 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  289 

great  white  choker,  was  just  finishing  his 
meat,  and  as  he  sat  directly  opposite  we 
naturally  fell  into  speech  with  him.  His 
manner  of  talk  was  most  attractive,  and 
when  he  learned  we  were  from  the  Flatts 
he  began  plying  us  with  eager  questions, 
news  of  St.  Leger's  flight  having  come  for 
ward  by  special  messenger  the  day  previ 
ous.  So  familiar  did  he  seem  with  all  the 
country  in  the  neighborhood  of  my  home, 
and  so  keen  an  interest  did  he  betray  in 
everything  we  had  to  relate,  that  when  he 
went  from  the  room  I  turned  to  the  officer 
upon  my  right,  who  had  taken  a  slight  part 
in  our  conversation,  and  inquired : 

"  Can  you  tell  me  who  that  gentleman 
maybe?" 

"It  is  said  that  he  is  Samuel  Kirkland, 
the  missionary,"  was  the  reply,  and  then  I 
knew  that  I  had  been  speaking  with  the 
man  who  had  worked  such  marvels  among 
the  Indians,  to  whose  influence  more  than 
that  of  any  other  was  due  the  fact  that  the 
entire  Six  Nations  had  not  gone  upon  the 
war  path  at  the  bidding  of  the  British. 


290  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

We  picked  up  a  great  budget  of  gossip 
before  we  quitted  the  table,  for  the  whole 
room  hummed  with  it.  We  learned  that 
the  islands  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mohawk 
(Van  Schaick's  Island  and  Haval  Island), 
had  been  intrenched,  that  approaches  to 
the  ford  at  Half  Moon  Point  had  been 
fortified,  and  that  the  appointed  meeting 
of  the  first  New  York  Legislature  at  Kings 
ton  on  September  1st  had  moved  the  militia 
to  action,  and  they  were  beginning  to 
gather  in  a  most  gratifying  way. 

The  stir  at  Lewis'  Tavern  was  a  repro 
duction  in  little  of  the  bustle  in  the  streets  of 
the  town,  which  was  at  this  time  the  sixth  or 
seventh  in  size  in  the  country.  There  was  a 
great  hurrrying  to  and  fro  of  soldiers  on 
their  way  to  the  front,  of  market-men  and 
peripatetic  venders  called  forth  by  the  un 
usual  crowd  and  making  a  loud  to-do  over 
their  wares;  and,  moreover,  there  was  a 
vast  press  of  country  folk,  some  from  the 
immediate  vicinity  who  had  come  to  trade, 
but  more  from  the  fugitive  class  who  had 
all  their  time  upon  their  hands,  and  were 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  291 

wandering  up  and  down   from  mere  idle 
curiosity. 

It  was  into  this  human  ebb  and  flow  that 
Heinrich  and  I  adventured  after  standing 
for  a  space  among  the  guests  of  the  inn 
about  the  street  doorway,  and  it  was  now 
for  the  first  time  that  I  began  to  wonder 
if,  after  all,  our  errand  was  going  to  prove 
such  an  easy  one.  During  our  journey  I 
had  comforted  myself  with  the  thought, 
"once  we  are  in  Albany,  the  rest  will  be 
but  a  trifling  affair."  Although  Herborn 
had  stated  at  the  outset  that  he  was  not 
aware  either  in  what  part  of  the  town 
Philip  Wells  (Margaret's  uncle)  had  taken 
up  his  abode,  or  upon  what  business  ven 
ture  he  had  embarked,  it  had  not  occurred 
to  me  but  that  it  would  be  a  comparatively 
easy  thing  to  get  trace  of  him.  Now  our 
quest  assumed  a  decidedly  different  aspect. 
I  had  not  counted  upon  this  great  influx  of 
strangers,  and  realized  that  if  our  inquiries 
at  some  of  the  principal  shops  and  at  the 
place  for  the  delivery  of  the  mails  should 
turn  out  to  be  of  no  avail,  we  should  be 
straightway  cast  into  a  maze  of  difficulties. 


292  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

Our  landlord,  whom  I  was  at  the  outset 
careful  to  question,  could  give  me  no  in 
formation.  There  had  been  many  new 
comers  of  late,  he  remarked. 

I  communicated  none  of  my  misgivings 
to  Heinrich,  however,  seeing  that  he  was 
lost  in  wonder  and  admiration  at  the  sights, 
he  having  never  before  journeyed  further 
than  Johnstown. 

"It  will  be  time  enough  to  counsel  with 
him,"  I  said  to  myself,  "should  our  in 
quiries  come  to  naught." 

I  took  upon  myself  the  part  of  acting  as 
spokesman,  and  having  ascertained  where 
the  mails  were  given  forth,  we  made  our 
way  thither,  but  small  satisfaction  did  we 
get. 

Yes,  the  man  in  charge  could  recall  that 
occasional  letters  had  come  for  a  Mr.  Philip 
Wells  during  the  past  month,  but  he  had 
no  notion  where  the  gentleman  lived, 
whether  in  the  town,  in  its  outskirts,  or 
haply  somewhere  in  the  surrounding 
country. 

Here  was  an   entirely   new   suggestion 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  293 

that  added  to  my  gathering  perplexities. 
The  outskirts  of  the  town  !  the  surrounding 
country!  Forsooth,  our  search  was  going 
to  be  no  holiday  sport,  if  these  outlying 
districts  were  perforce  to  be  added  to  the 
area  we  must  cover.  Our  afternoon  proved 
to  be  both  vexatious  and  wearisome,  and, 
moreover,  productive  of  no  results.  To 
all  sorts  of  merchants  we  went,  meeting 
now  with  courteous  and  now  with  gruff 
responses,  but  never  gaining  the  clue  we 
sought.  Some  had  heard  the  name,  some 
fancied  they  had  dealings  with  the  person 
we  were  inquiring  for,  but  no  one  knew 
where  he  was  to  be  found,  nor  could  any 
one  give  a  satisfactory  description  of  his 
appearance. 

"Come,"  I  said  to  Heinrich,  "we  will  go 
to  the  river  and  rest  for  a  while,  and  see  if 
we  can  decide  what  had  best  be  done." 

To  this  proposal  he  readily  assented,  say 
ing  he  did  not  know  what  had  got  into  his 
legs  they  felt  so  uncommonly  weary. 

"'Tisthe  streets  of  the  town,  man,"  I 
remarked,  with  a  laugh.  "This  plodding 


294  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

up  and  down  over  hard  pavements  little 
agrees  with  one  accustomed  to  the  spring 
of  the  turf  on  the  side  of  a  country 
highway." 

There  was  considerable  activity  about 
the  quays,  the  loading  of  sloops  with  stores 
for  the  army  being  in  progress.  We  found 
a  comparatively  quiet  spot  and,  having 
perched  upon  a  huge  bale  containing  I 
know  not  what,  scanned  for  some  time  in 
silence  the  placid  reaches  of  the  river  that 
shimmered  with  the  deepening  gold  of  late 
afternoon. 

"I  confess,"  said  Heinrich  at  length, 
"this  is  not  exactly  what  I  looked  forward 
to.  It  seemed  to  me  when  you  proposed 
the  thing,  and  whenever  I  have  since 
thought  of  it,  that  it  would  be  the  very 
easiest  matter  imaginable  to  find  my  mother 
and  sister.  I  now  realize  that  I  judged 
Albany  by  the  Platts  and  by  the  settlements 
up  the  valley,  but  you  who  have  been  more 
in  the  world,  I  should  think  you  would 
have  forseen  the  difficulties  we  were  likely 
to  encounter." 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  295 

"Doubtless,"  I  returned,  "I  overlooked 
them,  or  gave  them  little  heed,  in  the  joy 
of  discovering  whither  your  sister  and 
mother  had  gone.  When  we  stepped  into 
the  streets  this  afternoon  I  knew  we  had 
been  over-confident." 

"Well,  we  can  make  a  house  to  house 
inquiry,"  this  dubiously,  with  a  tired  glance 
at  the  expanse  over  which  the  town 
stretched. 

"Yes,"  I  assented,  with  scarcely  less 
enthusiasm  than  he  had  shown,  "but  I 
have  about  come  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
is  in  the  outskirts,  or  in  the  immediately 
adjoining  country,  we  must  search." 

"Why  so?" 

"I  can  hardly  say.  It  is  simply  an  im 
pression  that  has  been  growing  on  me. 
Assuredly  some  of  the  tradesmen  we  have 
questioned  would  be  able  to  tell  us  more  if 
Mr.  Wells  has  been  a  resident  of  Albany 
a  month  and  longer." 

"Not  if  he  has  run  no  bills,  as  is  quite 
possible.  Why  should  they  even  know  his 
name?" 


296  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

This  putting  of  the  case  was  reasonable, 
and  I  had  no  reply  to  make. 

"There  is  no  newspaper  now  published 
here,  so  we  cannot  advertise,"  said  I,  "but 
there  is  certainly  a  town-crier.  We  might 
have  recourse  to  him." 

"Well,  suppose  we  do  on  the  morrow," 
answered  Heinrich. 

Having  come  to  this  agreement,  we 
lapsed  into  a  silent  contemplation  of  the 
shipping  and  the  river,  and  presently  made 
our  way  slowly  back  to  the  inn. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

The  Gardineer  Place 

I  cannot  say  what  prompted  me,  but  I 
arrayed  myself  with  special  care  that  even 
ing.  Perhaps  it  was  the  vain  hope  that  I 
might  encounter  Margaret  among  the 
promenaders  whom  I  knew  would  be  likely 
to  gather  in  State  Street  when  the  sun  had 
dipped  low.  I  donned  my  fine  velure  silk 
waistcoat  which  my  dear  mother  had  once 
presented  to  me  at  Christmastide,  my  best 
knee  and  shoe  buckles,  and  a  cravat  which 
I  had  not  worn  since  the  days  when  Hamil 
ton  and  I  used  to  disport  ourselves  upon 
the  Battery  at  the  sunset  flush  when  May 
was  in  the  air.  Heinrich  flung  much  banter 
at  me,  but  I  smiled  at  him  good-humoredly, 
for  with  the  putting  on  of  my  gay  attire 
somehow  I  sloughed  the  discouraging  ex 
periences  of  the  afternoon,  and  regained, 
at  least  in  part,  my  former  buoyancy. 

"We  had  supped  well,  and  were  sitting 
where  we  could  watch  the  incoming  and 

297 


298  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

outgoing  frequenters  of  the  tavern  when 
we  marked  our  host  making  his  way 
toward  us. 

"A  fair  evening  to  you,  sirs,"  he  said,  as 
he  approached.  "  Did  you  tell  me  that  the 
gentleman  of  whom  you  were  hi  search 
had  come  hither  from  the  South?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  I  cried  excitedly,  believing 
that  at  last  we  were  about  to  hear  some 
thing  that  would  put  us  on  the  right  track. 

"I  ask,"  said  the  landlord,  "because  a 
new-comer  to  town  has  just  been  here  who 
occasionally  drops  in  for  a  draught  of  my 
port.  I  do  not  know  what  his  name  is,  but 
I  recall  having  heard  him  say  that  he  had 
lived  in  the  Carolinas,  and  had  removed  to 
the  North  to  escape  Tory  persecution." 

" I  believe  it  is  the  man!"  I  exclaimed, 
"Where  is  he  now?" 

"He  came  on  horseback,  and  has  just 
ridden  away,  If  I  mistake  not,  it  is  he 
who  has  purchased  the  Gardineer  place 
which  is  beyond  General  Schuyler's  on  the 
extension  of  Pearl  Street." 

"He  has  just  ridden  away,  you  say?" 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  299 

"Yes,  but  he  must  be  still  in  sight.  Per 
haps  I  can  point  him  out  to  you." 

We  accompanied  Mr.  Lewis  to  the  door, 
and  then  to  the  street  corner. 

"Yonder  he  is!"  said  the  landlord,  with 
a  wave  of  his  hand  toward  a  rapidly  disap 
pearing  figure.  "If  you  think  there  is  any 
likelihood  that  he  is  the  man  you  are  seek 
ing,  you  have  but  to  follow  this  road  into 
the  country  until  you  come  to  a  house  upon 
your  right  set  well  back  amid  a  group  of 
maples.  That  is  the  Gardineer  place,  and 
there  I  think  you  will  find  him." 

"Come!"  I  cried  to  Herborn,  whose 
weariness  of  the  afternoon  was  now  sud 
denly  forgotten,  and  who  kept  pace  uncom 
plainingly  with  my  rapid  stride. 

The  clock  in  the  English  church  in  State 
Street  was  just  striking  seven,  and  there 
was  still  half  an  hour  before  twilight  would 
begin  to  deepen.  For  the  gay  dames  in 
their  calashes  and  buffonts  hasting  towards 
State  Street  to  display  their  finery  I  had 
never  an  eye.  Not  for  an  instant  did  I 
suffer  my. glance  to  rove  from  the  rider 


300  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

swinging  on  ahead.  Doubtless  the  good 
burghers  and  their  families  who  were  en 
joying  the  coolness  of  eve,  seated  upon 
either  side  of  their  doorways,  as  is  their 
custom,  marvelled  to  see  such  indifference 
and  such  unwonted  haste.  Something 
within  me  cried  out  that  at  last  we  had  hit 
upon  the  true  trail,  and  I  seemed  to  feel 
myself  transfigured.  A  waft  of  the  old 
sensation  comes  back  to  me  as  I  write,  and 
my  blood  sings  the  song  of  love  and  youth. 
What  mattered  the  long  parting,  the  yearn 
ing,  the  fears,  the  heart-ache?  Every  sad 
emotion  was  shed  as  a  cast-off  garment, 
and  joy  was  my  sole  raiment. 

The  horseman  finally  grew  to  be  a  faint 
figure,  occasionally  glimpsed  and  then  hid 
den  from  the  sight.  We  had  sometime 
since  left  behind  the  houses  of  the  town 
and  also  a  mansion  of  considerable  stateli- 
ness,  which  I  fancied  must  be  General 
Schuyler's,  and  presently  the  rider  was 
wholly  lost  to  view.  Up  to  this  point 
Heinrich  and  I  had  exchanged  no  word. 
Now  we  slackened  our  steps  simultaneously, 


THE  SON    OF  A  TORY  301 

for  it  was  clear  that  we  were  drawing  near 
whatthe  inn-keeperhad  called  the  Gardineer 
place. 

"How  shall  we  manage  it?"  said  Hein- 
rich.  "I  don't  wish  to  take  the  lead,  for  I 
might  chance  to  encounter  Margaret,  and 
I  should  prefer  not  to  have  her  see  me 
until  she  knows  you  are  alive.  Yet  the 
sudden  sight  of  you  might  seriously  shock 
her—" 

"I'll  take  the  risk,"  said  I,  interrupting 
him.  "You  know  'tis  regarded  as  a  com 
mon  truth  that  joy  does  not  kill,  and,  after 
all,  there  is  but  small  probability  that  she 
will  be  the  first  person  I  shall  meet." 

So  it  was  settled  that  I  was  to  go  for 
ward  in  advance,  and  that  Heinrich  was  to 
follow,  after  giving  me  an  opportunity  to 
make  myself  known.  It  will  be  noticed 
that  both  of  us  assumed  we  had  found  the 
dwelling-place  of  Philip  Wells. 

We  soon  reached  the  entrance  gate,  and, 
leaving  Heinrich,  I  stepped  briskly  along 
the  drive.  Behind  the  trees  in  the  rear  of, 
and  surrounding,  the  substantial  brick  man- 


302  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

sion  lingered  the  embers  of  a  glowing  sun 
set,  but  the  invading  shadows  were  creeping 
up  from  beyond  the  river,  and  in  the  caress 
ing  breeze  there  was  a  soft  presage  of 
night. 

As  I  neared  the  house  I  caught  the  mur 
mur  of  voices,  so  I  chose  the  sward  for  a 
path,  and  thus  was  able  to  approach  silent- 
footed.  Several  shrubs  obscured  the  porch 
and  the  main  doorway,  and,  swiftly  gaining 
the  shelter  of  a  syringa  clump,  I  peered 
out.  Not  many  yards  distant  three  women 
were  seated,  two  upon  a  rustic  seat,  the 
third  half  reclining  upon  some  cushions  cast 
on  the  grass — and  the  third  was  Margaret! 

I  caught  my  breath  at  the  sight  of  her 
all  clad  in  white,  with  a  bit  of  black  velvet 
at  her  throat  and  a  flower  upon  her  breast; 
then  I  shut  my  eyes,  to  open  them  again 
in  an  instant,  half  fearing  that  the  vision 
should  prove  a  dream.  Although  I  had  in 
all  surety  expected  to  find  her,  I  had  not 
anticipated  coming  upon  her  in  just  this 
way.  The  suddenness  of  it  gave  me  a 
thrill  that  was  surpassingly  sweet. 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY          303 

While  I  stood  transfixed,  my  gaze  riveted 
upon  my  beloved's  face,  one  of  the  elder 
women  rose,  taking  my  attention  for  a 
moment.  "She  must  be  Mrs.  Philip 
Wells,"  I  said  to  myself,  for  her  companion 
was  Margaret's  mother. 

"I  think  we  had  best  be  going  within," 
she  remarked,  "the  evening  grows  damp." 

"Oh,  must  we  yet?"  exclaimed  Margaret. 
"  It  is  so  lovely  here ! ' ' 

You  can  stay  for  a  little,  if  you  like, 
dear,"  said  her  mother,  who  had  risen, 
"but  I  think  with  your  aunt  that  she  and 
I  had  better  seek  the  shelter  of  the  house." 

They  moved  toward  the  steps,  and  soon 
disappeared  in  the  dusk  of  the  hallway. 

"Surely,"  mused  I,  "if  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  the  intervention  of  fate,  here  is 
a  rare  example  of  its  workings,"  for  on  the 
instant  that  Margaret's  mother  and  aunt 
quitted  the  scene  I  had  made  up  my  mind 
what  I  would  do. 

There  was  a  whistling  wood-thrush  note, 
uttered  at  the  edge  of  eve,  which  Margaret 
and  I  had  several  times  practised  together 


304  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

when  we  had  strolled  down  a  laneway  in 
the  rear  of  the  Demooth's  as  far  as  the 
forest's  verge.  Of  this  I  determined  to 
make  use.  Would  not  my  beloved  think 
it  strange  to  hear  it  so  near  at  hand,  and 
so  close  to  a  habitation?  Would  not  the 
sound  of  it  kindle  recollection,  and  stir  in 
her  brain  the  thought  that  perhaps  by  some 
unaccountable  magic  it  came  from  human 
lips,  from  my  lips? 

Softly  at  first,  then  more  sharply  and 
clearly  I  gave  the  whistling  call.  Even  as 
I  hoped,  she  started,  shuddered  a  little,  and 
put  her  hand  to  her  heart.  Again  I  tried 
the  note,  and  she  was  upon  her  feet,  her 
eyes  straining  toward  the  bush  behind 
which  I  was  hidden,  her  slender  figure 
tense,  as  though  at  the  next  instant  she 
would  spring  toward  me.  Once  more  the 
call,  imperfect  indeed,  and  yet  perfect,  for 
it  wrought  my  desire. 

"Wilton!  Wilton!"  she  cried,  and  ah! 
the  wedded  joy  and  doubt  and  wonder  in 
that  cry! 

I  stepped  into  full  view  and  held  out  my 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  305 

arms.  Did  she  hesitate?  Did  it  come  into 
her  mind  that  I  was  some  fateful  apparition 
risen  to  harrow  her?  Not  so,  and  I  have 
since  told  her  that  it  was  all  due  to  the 
pink  of  my  velure  waistcoat,  which  must 
have  been  visible  and  given  her  assurance, 
for  no  one  could  imagine  such  a  crowning 
absurdity  as  a  ghost  in  pink  velure.  It 
was  the  veriest  fraction  of  time  before  I 
had  her  in  my  embrace,  before  our  lips 
met,  before  she  was  laughing  and  crying 
over  me,  and  looking  me  up  and  down  as 
though  to  make  quite  sure  in  my  supposed 
excursion  to  the  country  of  departed  souls 
I  had  not  left  behind  a  leg  or  an  arm. 

Two  startled  women  now  appeared  upon 
the  porch  of  the  house,  while  a  rotund  lit 
tle  man  in  a  buff  coat  and  a  disarranged 
peruke  pushed  by  them  and  began  to  de 
scend  the  steps. 

"It's  Wilton,  it's  Wilton,  come  back  to 
life!"  cried  Margaret,  seizing  me  by  the 
arm  and  dragging  me  forward.  And  then 
there  arose  such  a  chorus  of  cries,  such  a 
series  of  exclamations  as  I  had  never  be- 


306  THE  SON  OF  A  TORY 

fore  heard,  and  hope  never  again  to  be 
forced  to  listen  to.  Upon  me  was  poured 
a  tumbling  torrent  of  questions,  and  it  was 
the  greatest  relief  when  I  caught  sight  of 
Heinrich  standing  not  far  away,  and  drew 
attention  from  myself  by  pointing  him  out 
to  Margaret.  The  sweet  girl  Tan  toward 
him  with  both  hands  outstretched. 

"It  has  all  been  a  bad  dream,  brother," 
she  said,  "but  now  it  is  morning  again," 
and  she  kissed  him  fondly. 

Then  we  went  merrily  into  the  house, 
Margaret  clinging  to  me,  lest  I  should 
somehow  be  spirited  from  her  sight.  When 
my  story  had  been  told,  Mr.  Wells  left  us 
for  a  space  to  reappear  presently  with  a 
brimming  bowl,  having  mixed  his  choicest 
posset.  Our  glasses  were  filled,  and  I 
arose,  waiting  for  the  host  to  speak. 

"A  toast!"  he  cried,  beaming  upon  us 
all, — "the  health  and  happiness  of  a  dear 
maiden  whom  I  need  not  name!" 

And  with  a  full  heart  I  pledged  her  in 
whose  eyes  I  saw  shining  a  radiant  light 


THE  SON  OF  A  TORY  307 

which,  since  that  hour,  has  never  failed  to 
be  to  me  an  inspiration,  a  solace,  and  a 
guide. 

THE  END 


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almost  alone  among  American  nature  writers 
Mr.  McGaffey  gives  his  work  atmosphere.  Out 
doors,  like  its  title  is  big  (both  in  merit  and  size), 
and  inclusive.  Its  32  chapters  range  from  The 
Marshes  in  April  to  In  Winter  Woods.  It  is  a 
book  which  once  seen  every  lover  of  nature  will 
be  impatient  to  possess. 


RICHARD  G.  BADGER  &  CO.  (Inc.) 

Publishers 

Tremont  Temple,  Boston 


When  Half-Gods  Go 

A  NOVEL  BY 

JULIA  MAGRUDER 

With  frontispiece.  12  mo.  330  pp.  $1.25 


A  new  novel  by  Miss  Magruder  is 
always  sure  of  its  welcome  and  When 
Half-Gods  Go  will  find  for  her  even  a 
wider  audience  than  she  has  hitherto  en 
joyed.  It  is  a  fascinating  story  of  social 
and  musical  life  in  New  York,  full  of 
human  interest  and  those  happy  touches 
Miss  Magruder  can  do  so  well.  The  title 
is  from  Emerson's  lines  "  When  half-gods 
go  the  gods  arrive." 


RICHARD  G.  BADGER  &  CO.  (Inc.) 

Publishers 

Tremont  Temple,  Boston 


IRISH  MIST  AND  SUNSHINE 

A  BOOK  OF  BALLADS  BY 

REV.  JAMES  B.  BOLLARD 

(Sliav-na-mon) 

With  an  introduction  by  William  O'Brien,  M.P. 
Small  quarto.     $1.50 


This  is  a  book  of  ringing  Irish  ballads  that 
will  stir  the  heart  of  every  lover  of  true  poetry. 
"Here  and  there  a  verse  may  be  as  frankly  un 
adorned  as  the  peasant  cabins  themselves  in 
their  homely  cloaks  of  thatch,  but  every  line 
rings  true  to  life  and  home  and  with  the  tone,  as 
heartmoving  as  the  Angelus  which  holds  Millet's 
peasants  in  its  spell,"  from  Mr.  O'Brien's  intro 
duction. 

"Father  Bollard's  ballads  have  all  the  fire 
and  dash  of  Kipling's,  with  a  firmer  poetic 
touch  "  says  Mr.  Nathan  Haskell  Dole. 


RICHARD  G.  BADGER  &  CO.  (Inc.) 

Publishers 

Tremont  Temple,  Boston 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


12  1955 


Form  L9-42wjr-8,'49(B5573)444 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
ANGELES 


UCLA-Young  Research  Library 


Scollard  ~ 


792     The  son  of 
0$  _  Tory.  - 


PS 

2792 

S69 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    001  224431    5 


